Quiet
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: If it was never spoken of, can it be played off as a dream? Grace/Karen inspired by the Rachael Yamagata song of the same name. Now complete.
1. Your Best, My Worst

_"All the waves of blame arrange as broken scenery  
>As they steal your best memories away..."<br>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" _

_Now_

This is easily one of the hardest days I've had to endure, and I don't know whether to blame you—the fire that sparked in the middle of my life so abruptly and just as quickly went out—or to blame myself—the one who let it all happen in the first place. It's a tough call.

I walk down the aisle, on the way to my seat, and see your friends and family, the strangers on his side that I've never met, and they are all smiles. I can't tell if they're genuine, like your mother's, like Jack's, like I'm sure Will's is, or if they're just for show, like mine. But everyone surrounding me is making the greatest effort to make this a good day for you. And as much as I want to appease you, as much as I want to give you what you think you want, it would go against everything inside me to do this. But I will smile, I won't say a word. I will let you have your day. That's all that I can give at this point. Because it's just too damn hard. To see him at the end, waiting for you. To know that you will walk by me in white, like an angel, only to give your promises to someone else. It kills me. You were only with me for a short time, and I still can't decide if you were honest with me, but it doesn't mean you didn't leave a hole in my life. It doesn't mean that you didn't shake me and leave me shattered. The truth still remains: he will not love you the way I did, the way I do.

No one else here knows about that. No one here would believe me. No one would think it plausible for what transpired behind their backs to happen. Our kisses took place behind closed doors; our caresses lingered in the dark. Our whispers were hidden by the laughter of others, by the passing wind. It was intoxicating and thrilling then. But it's a different game now. Because now, the memories start to burn to dust in the old flames. And I can't for the life of me figure out if that's a blessing or a curse.

At this moment, if you asked me, I'd be leaning towards the latter.

I almost didn't come. But you were so wrapped up in this wedding that I'm not sure if you would even notice my absence. And even if you did, I'm sure it would be a bigger relief to see an empty seat than to see the false smile on my lips. You didn't give us any warning; you just ran off with him to the opposite end of Central Park to take part in a makeshift ceremony that didn't take. And although the first one was not real, you had your mind set, you would do it until you got it right. Marriage has never been kind to me—my history is proof of this fact—but it doesn't mean I'm bitter when the subject comes up. If it had been anybody else getting ready to walk those steps and say those words, I wouldn't be longing to run for the door.

But it's you, Grace. I can't help but be sad about it all. I was never good at making love work. Take one look at my track record and you can see how obvious that fact is. But that never meant I didn't try. I tried like hell. And I thought you did, too. Although now, I wonder if your intentions were true. I wonder if you agreed to set our history into motion simply because you felt bad for me, because you saw me in a weakened state with everything I knew taken away from me, and you didn't know how to react to that. You were always one to please, but to my knowledge, you had never gone that far for someone just to secure their happiness. You wouldn't toy with emotions just because it's what you think is desired. And I don't think that's what you did to me. Whether or not it's reality, I choose to believe that you would never do that to me, or to yourself. But that doesn't mean that I doubt my convictions at times.

I didn't even mean for it to start in the first place. It's no excuse, but it's all I have. And I take it with me as I sit next to Jack and rack my brain trying to figure out who should be held responsible for your white dress and my false smile and jealousy for the man standing up there, waiting to take a part of you that you never let me have. Maybe I could hold Stan responsible. He made a mistake, he was sent away. He set off a chain of events leading to this moment. But as soon as I think that I finally found someone to blame, I automatically feel guilty. Stan isn't able to defend himself, not against this. He could in no way control our short but intensely passionate stint as secret lovers.

I can see him waiting for you; I've got a clear view. I know he's got something that I could never give you, and as enticing as what we had might have been, what was behind door number two must have been too spectacular to put into words. I can't see it. Maybe it's because I'm biased or bitter—in fact, I can almost guarantee you that's the reason. He met your standards better than I did; I failed the test, didn't meet the expectations. And we never got the chance to talk about it. There was an overlap. He was getting closer to touch you while I was still trying to hold you, but you were out of reach. If my arms had been an inch longer, my fingertips could have brushed your skin.

Even then, though, I don't think it would have done much good. You were already gone. I could see that right away.

The look in your eyes when you had that last story to tell, the way they darkened when you said that you had something to say but you didn't know how. I see that look in front of me at the most silent moments, vivid as the rainy evening it happened. It stings, of course it does, but that's not what hurts the most about that memory. What pierces my skin is the echo of your voice, speaking those words. Telling me about him. Telling me that you weren't going around looking for it. Telling me that you didn't do anything yet. Yet. I don't think you meant for that to sound as though you were planning something to the contrary, but god, that's what it sounded like. It sounded like you were filling me in on the plan, just so I wouldn't be shocked when I found out about it, or if I by chance ran into the two of you hand in hand. And then, in your justification for your feelings, that question that stabbed something already almost dead.

"What good is this"—you motioned back and forth between us—"if no one else knows about it? If we're ashamed?"

Looking back, I think I know what you meant. If we didn't tell anybody, were we really serious about it? But then, in that second, you crushed me, and I knew it was over. But now I think of your question, and in my inability to answer, I offer my own.

If no one else knew about you and me, am I able to pass it off as a dream that I'm free of as soon as I open my eyes?

I lay my head on Jack's shoulder, and if he notices something wrong, he doesn't say anything about it. My head is too heavy with how real everything is now. He places his hand over mine, and for a moment I am convinced that he knows everything without me having to say a word. For a moment, I want to look up at him and tell him what I'm thinking. But I know I can't. I can't tell him about how the weight of you against my body felt. I can't tell him how breathtaking you were when we would lay on the bed hand in hand, our hair mingling as we tried not to break the fragile beauty of that moment. I can't tell him that you waited when you told me you loved me, only to say three weeks later that you weren't sure. But I feel his touch, his comforting silence. I'll take what I can get.

You probably don't remember this, but I do. In retrospect, it wasn't that long ago, but the way we loved made it feel like we went through an eternity. It was the morning after you first kissed me—you started it, not me, as if that's some childish justification for my mood right now—and we woke up to the new day. You looked at me as the sunlight started to filter through your flaming hair and instead of the smile that had once ran across your face, I saw a look of confusion and concern. And in a soft voice that was unsure of itself, you asked me what this all meant. I gave you a smile of reassurance and told you, "Whatever you want it to mean."

I left it up to you. If you decided you couldn't do it, it would be easy enough for me to get over the events that had already taken place. But if you wanted to give it a go, I would still be under your power. What I didn't know is that those words doomed me from the start. I put our fate in your hands because I thought it was the right thing to do. And you held on, Grace, I'll give you that one. I just didn't know you were going to let go. You didn't give me any warning that that would have been a possibility.

Maybe this is all my fault in the end, because I gave up the one thing I've been so used to possessing: control. I gladly gave it up for you, because you weren't like anybody else in my life. With that first kiss, I passed it on to you, knowing full well that I wouldn't be able to steer us in whatever direction seemed like the natural one. Given the opportunity, I still would.

Perhaps that makes me a fool, too.

I hear the music start to play, I know what's coming. But I don't want to face it. Jack shakes my hand to try to get my attention. "Kare. Come on."

And then he says, "Stand up. Grace is coming." And my heart stops for a second.

Everyone stands up before I get the chance. I try to steady myself and slip my hand into Jack's as the doors open. God, you're beautiful, the flames of your hair against pure white. I just wish this beauty didn't come with a price. I bite the inside of my lip to keep the tears down. I wouldn't be able to explain them. No one here would understand. No one here knows. Just the way you wanted it. Pretend it never happened. Think back on it and smile. Think back on it and laugh. Store it in the past and never look back. It doesn't matter what you do to our relationship anymore. You fell out of love, if you were even in love to begin with. You found another pair of eyes, hands, you found another heart. I can't help that.

I will say this, though. After it ended, I thought that maybe it was because you could wipe the slate clean and have no repercussions to these actions. Because this was not what was expected of you, but you would never have to own up to it unless I let it slip. And I would never let it slip, so it would be incredibly easy for you to at the very least brush the remnants of us under the rug. I will keep quiet, and maintain the precious theme of our relationship. Whether the blame is yours or mine, I will not say a word.

I will keep quiet. Just like you always wanted.


	2. If You Want It

_Then_

It was stupid, she realized this, but when she watched him get up to leave, for a moment she wanted to go with him. Because in a swift motion, everything she had become accustomed to had walked off with him, to be kept behind cold metal bars for who knows how long. The feeling seemed completely rational yet entirely ridiculous at the same time. Two days ago, in the middle of some shouting match, she wanted nothing more than to be as far away from this man as humanly possible. She just didn't think that bitter wish would come true, especially like this. She thought back to the last thing she said before he was taken away. "Behave yourself." Sounding like she expected him to go crazy locked up like that. Actually meaning that if he kept to himself, maybe he would be able to come back to her sooner.

After all the murmurs under her breath in moments of anger, in the throes of some trivial argument that she now wished she could take back, Karen didn't realize how hard it would be when Stan's absence from their home became a reality. And now that this situation was placed in front of her, the thoughts in her mind froze in a tangled cluster, unable to separate.

She was silent on the ride back from the prison. The others didn't try to break the bleak spell that place had cast on her, and she didn't care. It was better to be left alone. She wouldn't know how to react anyway. She merely listened blankly as the others engaged in conversation around her and when they reached Park Avenue, she expected to get out of the car and walk into a strange and quiet house. But as she shut the car door behind her, she heard another one opening, and turned around to see Grace sliding out of the passenger's seat. She saw the red head's soft smile, and couldn't figure out if it was a knee-jerk reaction, or if it was genuine sympathy. "I'll walk you up," she said as she followed Karen. And somehow, that small gesture had turned into Grace spending the night in an effort to feel less alone.

Now, she left Grace in the bedroom as she went out to the library's balcony, braced herself against the chill of the night air and lit a cigarette, trying to push all the thoughts of Stan's carelessness over the rail to a crashing land on the street. She was never the type to fully depend on a man; that wasn't what the problem was at all. It was her inability to cope with the sudden loss of someone who had been within reach every single day. It's what made her father's death feel more and more real as time went on. It's what made each break-up pierce her with a sharper knife than usual. She hated change that she didn't set into motion. She hated the abruptness of it all, and feeling powerless because of it.

She hated the quiet spaces these people left behind, every time the door closed. She knew that she shouldn't feel this dramatic of a change; after all, Stan left quiet spaces all over the house even when he was here. It had been a long time since they consciously sat down and talked about anything. But there was always the possibility, despite it being the smallest one. And as soon as Stan was taken away, she missed that possibility.

Missing something that was never tangibly there in the first place. She had to be insane.

Karen let a cloud of smoke spill from her lips as she rested her arms on the rail and sighed. There was a time when she had whole-heartedly considered leaving this man. Well. It was more than once, but in an attempt to be a good wife, she convinced herself to forget about those other moments that popped up in the course of their marriage. Back before there was a promise of a ring on her finger, she found out why the promise was never made. She learned of Cathy, the one who was currently wearing that ring, of the children he had with her. And she hated the thought of unknowingly being the other woman. She was determined to tell him off, to fill him in on the fact that she couldn't deal with it. But then he promised divorce, he promised a clean slate. And the things inside her that propelled that "no" in her mind shut off, and she bent to his will.

He knew where that switch was, always promising things would get better and sounding like he meant it. And against her better judgment, she would go with it, because at one point she loved him, and she believed that on some level she still did. But then things would stay the same, sometimes get worse, and she was back where she started. It was a cycle she couldn't get out of, but it wasn't as though she was taking any serious action to break it. She would be lying if she said it was all bad. But the way in which they were living now could not be healthy, barely talking, barely listening, barely forging a stable home for Stan's kids (and that may have been the thing that crushed her the most; after her father's death, she lost that secure place to call home, and knowing that she wasn't helping in giving Mason and Olivia what she didn't have growing up hurt her more than she let on). And even if leaving was the right answer, there was no way to do it now. He was in prison. She needed to show solidarity.

How exactly could you show solidarity for someone you couldn't trust anymore, for something that had been crumbling into dust for years? Secretly looking for a way out (she hated admitting that to herself, but it was true, she couldn't stand this anymore), she was now suffocating underneath the rubble of the effects of Stan's crime. She could feel it settle into her lungs, and she hated it.

She often wondered what would have happened if she had given him the speech she planned out, back when she realized she wasn't the only one. Where she would be. In different clothes, the ones that have been boxed up, placed in the back corners of her closet. In a different apartment in the West Village, in Chelsea, somewhere near the Bowery, the neighborhoods she used to know so well before meeting him. Or maybe somewhere near Will and Grace on Riverside, where they were able to find a balance between Uptown and Downtown. Working a job that wasn't an effort to get away from her married life, but something fueled by passion. Free from the ludicrous need to conform to the socialite norms. Rid of superficial friends that she hated more than she loved. The knowledge that you were appreciated for who you were rather than what your monetary worth was. The loss of that feeling that even if you had it all, you were still lacking something. Less lonely nights. Far less tears. Certainly not waiting for an unknown return from prison.

It looked really good from the outside. And she was certain that it was even better once you opened the door.

And yet she didn't complain about the way her life was going now, at least not vocally. There was no point in burdening others with her problems that likely wouldn't be understood in the first place. Take one look at the house and the cars, the fabric around her body and the shoes on her feet, and everyone thinks that there could never be anything bad here. There could never be anything broken in the way she thought, the way she felt.

But she was proving them wrong every single day.

"Hey." Grace's voice coming from behind startled her back into reality. She turned, saw the straight face on the red head and gave her a nod of acknowledgement. In the four years she had known this woman, she never quite understood what Grace saw in her to make her so tolerating of the person she made herself out to be. But if there was a time to question it, it certainly wasn't now. "I was just wondering where you wanted me to sleep tonight. I think I'm going to turn in soon."

Karen took a final drag off of the cigarette and put it out. "You can stay in the master bedroom, honey. The bed's big enough so that we won't bother each other." She expected Grace to turn around and leave, but she stood there, studying Karen. It made her self-conscious. "Anything else?" she asked in a way that sounded rougher than she meant it.

"No, I just…do you want to talk about it? You look like you've got a lot on your mind. I think I'd be more worried if you didn't." The look in her eyes was a friendly one, something Karen desperately needed, but wasn't sure how to grab without looking completely helpless. It was a time when helpless was acceptable. But she already showed a bit of vulnerability today, and she'd be damned if she was going to let that much more slip out.

She tried to offer a smile, and if it came out sad and forced, Grace was kind enough not to mention it. "Maybe later. I think I need to sleep on it first."

Grace nodded and said her goodnights before she turned to leave. Karen watched her go, kept her eye on the doorway long after the red head was out of sight. There had always been something about Grace that was completely alluring. Maybe it was because of the fact that Grace was living her days in a way that was enviable in Karen's eyes. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed unfettered in a way that was completely baffling. Or maybe, especially now, it was the fact that Grace was always there as a friend, even if you insisted that you didn't need it. She was the one to walk Karen to the door, she was the one to agree to stay the night. Even if Karen wouldn't admit it to her, she was grateful for the generosity. It shone a new light onto her that forced Karen to look.

When Karen finally made her way back inside and climbed into bed, Grace was already asleep. She looked peaceful, nothing like what Karen had been feeling. But as she settled into the sheets and turned her head towards Grace, she started to feel a little more at ease. She had always made herself out to be independent to the point that it was a fault. She never asked for what she thought she should be able to do on her own. It turned a lot of people off, and it showed by the low count of true friends she had. She made herself out to be this lone woman, when that couldn't be further from the truth. Grace was showing her that now. She wasn't alone; she didn't have to make herself out to be alone. There was help if she wanted it.

All she had to do was ask.

Maybe it was time to take it.

Maybe.

Karen whispered a "Thank you" to the other side of the bed. And then she closed her eyes, hoping for a better day when the sun came up.


	3. Touch

_Then_

When Grace's eyes fluttered open in the morning and she took in her surroundings, she forgot for a fleeting moment where she was. It was only the morning after she caught Karen in a moment of vulnerability and agreed to keep her company. It had been a very odd and very surreal time, getting a first-hand glimpse of the massive place this mysterious woman called home. But she had to admit, it looked good on the surface. Complete privacy when you wanted it, the large amount of space in a city that at times seemed entirely too cramped, the shine and glamour of it all. It seemed perfect.

Then again, she was sure she wasn't getting the full treatment.

Karen was still asleep as Grace shifted her glance to the dark-haired woman's side of the bed. The sunlight was shining through the window above them and came to rest over Karen's frame. _She looks like a beauty queen_, Grace thought, and immediately questioned it. That was never her instinct before. True, she always thought of Karen as a beautiful and pristine woman, but it was more like a porcelain doll on a high shelf with its eyes looking down on you, knowing you could never touch. But now the doll was lying asleep next to her. Grace slid her hand across the sheets and placed her hand softly on top of the one Karen had beside her face. She smiled; she had never felt such a soft and unknowing touch before. It was nothing like Nathan's; even when he's at his most gentle, she could feel the roughness of his skin. It was something he couldn't help—maybe it was just a man's touch—but she welcomed the contrast in Karen. She watched as Karen's lips stretched into the slightest smile before quickly relaxing into a slumber state. And just as quickly as it happened, she took her hand away, as if she had touched a burning surface, and hoped that Karen wouldn't realize what she had done.

Well. That wasn't completely true. She took it away so Karen wouldn't notice, yes. But she took it away more out of surprise in herself for how she felt after what she had done. And if Karen happened to wake up then, she didn't want to have to explain herself, because she could barely figure it out on her own.

There was a warmth radiating through her body that she had never experienced before, as soon as she touched Karen's skin. It made everything about this woman lying next to her so—for lack of a better word—human. She had been stripped down, unmasked for just a moment, and now that she was asleep, she was even more susceptible to life, her guard completely down. It shined a different light on her, one that exposed a beauty she was never before allowed to see, something that just made her want to take Karen in and hold her, protect her from the harsh outside spaces. And Grace couldn't lie, it was enticing to see this side of her, and she really wanted to get to know this person softly sighing in her sleep. Which made her feel the heavy weight of guilt on her chest.

It was the same odd desire to get to know Nathan when they first met. Nathan, who was sleeping alone while she was completing her good deed for the week. Nathan, who had been the unexpected charmer. It wasn't enough to feel guilty that for one fleeting second, she had felt that way about someone else. She couldn't reconcile the fact that she felt that way towards Karen. The moment that she had touched her hand became a moment when the pile of all the things that Grace thought were truths on Karen started to fall over.

She built up an image of a woman who was cold, not by choice, but by world experience. Someone who could not let anyone in, not because she didn't want to, but because after all these years, she forgot how, and honestly, it meant less broken hearts. Grace knew that there had to be more behind that persona, but Karen never filled anyone in on the topic. Nothing could be as spectacular as she made the surface of her life out to be. And Stan's arrest opened the door to the things that were locked away never to be seen. Suddenly, she became relatable, more like Grace than she had ever been before.

She had never seen Karen this way before. It was hard to look at for a minute, and then it became completely alluring, and she couldn't figure out why.

Weird situations evoke weird reactions. Sharing an intimate setting, in any situation, swayed your actions somewhat. It altered your vision, it changed the tone of your words. No matter how hard you tried, you were always influenced, even slightly, by your surroundings. That had to be it. Even if it wasn't, she would go with it. It was the only way to rationalize what was going on inside her mind.

Karen's body began to move itself awake, and Grace saw her eyes opening up. She quickly lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, wondering if Karen felt her touch, wondering if Karen felt the weight of her thoughts. She could feel the movement on the other side of the bed and held her breath for a moment, as if that would help contain whatever embarrassing things surrounded her. She let it go when she heard Karen's voice.

"Good morning, honey."

Grace looked over and smiled as she watched Karen sit up in bed. She propped herself on her elbows. Karen didn't give her a chance to respond before speaking again, and she appreciated the fact that she took the initiative to speak. She didn't know what she would say or how she would say it at this point unless she was prompted. "I really appreciate you spending the night, Grace. It meant a lot to know that you were here."

"It's no trouble, Karen, really." She offered up a smile before getting out of bed as quickly as she could without making a scene. She could tell by the look in Karen's eyes that she had suspected nothing, that in her mind, there was nothing to suspect. It calmed her a little bit, but she was still on edge. "Hey, if you need to take a break, you don't need to come into work today. You've been through a lot lately. I'll have things handled at the office." She almost wanted to laugh at the way it sounded, relieved that it came out like a genuine offer and not a wish to be alone to sweep these thoughts under the rug and prepare for another night in her presence.

Buying time. She was really good at that.

Grace picked yesterday's clothes up off of the floor and headed for the door when Karen's voice stopped her. "Grace?" She turned around to face the softly weary eyes across the room. "I was thinking that tonight, maybe I could take you up on your offer. You know, to talk about everything. That is, if you don't already have plans with Nathan or Will." Silence. "We'll have wine to make it a little less depressing," she said as an afterthought, a smile reaching across the room.

The red head's lips curled up slightly. "Karen, are you trying to bribe me with booze?" she joked.

"That depends. Is it working?"

Grace laughed and watched as Karen loosened up and laughed with her. It was different from the way Grace had heard it before; it was a little bit weary but still filled with good intentions. It was beautiful, the way Karen presented it. "I'll be here, I swear. I'll see you tonight," she said before she went to change and left the house. She hailed a cab for her office and looked at the buildings rushing by through the back seat window, trying to settle her mind in to something, anything, outside of Park Avenue and that near-silent mansion. But no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts always came back to the woman asleep beside her, the touch that set something off inside of her, the way that dark hair against pale skin made a woman look the same awake as she did in slumber.

Like a beauty queen.

If these minutes were any indication of how the rest of the day would go, there was no use in trying. She couldn't figure out if Karen's absence at the office today would be a good thing, or something terrible she inflicted upon herself. Seeing Karen across the room would certainly make things awkward, at least for her. But if she was by herself, she was left with her thoughts, and the way they were acting now made her think that their loudness in her mind would only intensify as the hours went by. It seemed as though she was doomed either way. But she had one last-ditch option in her back pocket on which she would bet everything she had.

As soon as she walked into the office, Grace rushed to the phone, dialed the number that she hoped would lead to the voice she was searching for. The dull monotone of the ring whispered in her ear and she closed her eyes until she finally heard him. "Gracie?"

"Nathan, good, you're home." She let out a sigh and tried to relax. Don't make your plea sound desperate, Grace. That's the last thing that you need. Play it off as something small. "Do you think you could swing by the office sometime today?"

"Of course." He paused for a moment. Maybe he figured it out. It was nearly impossible, but he knew her well enough to know when something is wrong. Usually, she loved that. Now, it wasn't that appealing. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "You sound like something's bothering you."

Shit. She didn't want to go into this. Not now. Not with him. Preferably not at all. "No, I'm fine," she lied. "I just haven't seen you. I miss you." Some small talk, a sweet goodbye with an "I love you" laced in, and she hung up the phone. Grace took a deep breath and opened up a sketchpad. She took a pencil and put it to the paper's surface, thinking that now she could finally start to clear her head. She just needed to counteract what happened this morning. Replace Karen's unknowing touch with Nathan's aware one. It would be okay. Not now, but once he walks though the door.

She wouldn't feel better until she saw his face.


	4. Lady Day

_Then_

She didn't push it when Grace came back from work in silence. She didn't question it when Grace wouldn't say a word at dinner. And she didn't say anything when Grace wandered off into another part of the house without notice. It was probably an off day at the office, Karen figured, but she couldn't help wondering if maybe she was the cause. She didn't know how—she had been home alone all day—but on the off chance that it in fact was her doing, she wanted to be sure that she made up for it. Karen grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen along with two glasses and headed up the stairs in search of the red head.

As she was making her way up the stairs, she heard the soft hum of music coming from the end of the hall on the second floor. Grace had to be in the library. Karen slipped into her bedroom to pick up a spare blanket before coming to a stop at the doorway at the corner. She watched as Grace was sprawled out on the floor, paging through the _New York Times_, Billie Holiday coming through the speakers of the small stereo Karen had put in the corner. It was odd to see someone else in this room. The library was the one place Karen had to herself; Stan rarely set foot in it, making it the one room she could walk into and know she had the full privacy she was looking for. It was her sanctuary, never before intruded upon. But she had to admit, seeing Grace in here wasn't the worst thing in the world.

"Lady Day," Karen said, acknowledging the music. Grace jumped at the sound of her voice and looked up at the doorway. Her face looked as though she had just been caught doing something off limits. Karen couldn't help but laugh. She walked into the room and handed Grace the blanket. "It can get a little cold in here. Thought you might want this, just in case."

"Thanks," Grace said timidly as she took the blanket and draped it over herself. "I'm sorry I kind of took over. I saw the CD in the player and couldn't help myself. Will plays her music sometimes when he reads after a stressful day; it seemed like a good idea." She wouldn't tell Karen why the stress was there, letting her believe it was a client, or some deadline she barely met. In all honesty, despite Nathan walking in and distracting her for a few moments, she couldn't keep herself from thinking about the morning. She was dreading the moment Karen would find her so she could talk, just as she promised, not because she didn't want to help, but because she'd have to face her own uncertainties.

Karen sat down on the floor next to Grace—it was too casual of a move to see her make, Grace thought, but welcomed it nonetheless—and opened up the bottle of wine. "Whatever helps you feel more at home here." She poured the wine into their empty glasses and took a sip, not daring to break the silence that had sat itself between them. She didn't know where to start talking about this, anyway. In her time alone, she had barely gotten a grasp on the situation, forced to confront an empty home. She could deal with the quiet, she always had; even when there was someone else around, there were barely any words. It was the silence brought on by a lack of human will that she couldn't stand, couldn't quite figure out.

As a result, when Grace walked through the door in silence tonight, it calmed her nerves to know that someone else wished the thickening quiet to be so.

"So, do you want to talk about it?" Grace was looking at her with eyes of concern as she took a sip of her wine, putting Karen on the spot even though she wanted this. Being the good friend she was looking for. Billie Holiday was singing in the background as if nothing was going on, as if this was normal. Karen looked into her glass, ran her finger around the rim.

"How do you even begin talking about something like this?" she asked. She wasn't looking for an answer; she knew that there probably wasn't one. She could feel Grace's eyes still on her before she felt her touch on her shoulder. It was warm, accepting, unassuming, and for a moment, Karen wanted to cry. She had spent the years she had known Grace building up an image that was based off of what she thought the red head saw on the surface. And that touch, that caring and uncomplicated touch, let her know that she could shake off that heavy armor, contradicted everything they knew to be the norm in their friendship. But it wasn't the worst thing in the world.

"We could just sit here for a while, if that's what you want. I don't mind it at all."

Silence, but the fact that Grace didn't let go of Karen's shoulder spoke volumes, at least to the dark haired woman. She tried to focus on the music, on Lady Day and the voice that had always captivated her. Holiday was singing about solitude and the memories that lingered on in loneliness. It wasn't helping, to say the least. After what seemed like an eternity, Karen felt Grace's touch slip from her shoulders to the floor in between them. And as she closed her eyes, she finally found a starting point.

"You know what this feels like?" Karen asked with her eyes still shut. She took a deep breath. "It feels like something's missing. That's the most obvious thing in the world, and you'd think it would be so simple, so uncomplicated. But it goes deeper than that. Something's missing, and I feel that void, but…" She paused for a moment before finishing her sentence, unsure of how she wanted to phrase it. "But I'm not sure if it's that much of a bad thing that it's gone." She opened her eyes and looked at the red head next to her, shrugged her shoulders, as if that would validate everything.

"You don't miss Stan?" Grace moved in a little closer, draped the blanket over the both of them.

"I don't know. It's not like he took an active part in my life lately. I can't remember the last conversation we had that lasted longer than ten minutes. I can't remember the last time he stopped me just to kiss me before sending me on my way. It was always like that in the beginning. And it slowed down soon after, but it always does in any relationship. But at some point, it just stopped completely. Sometimes it feels like I'm more of a nuisance than a wife."

"Karen, why didn't you tell any of us about this?" There was a hint of disbelief and concern in Grace's voice when she asked. "I mean, sure, there was that one time you went to Will for divorce counseling, but we all thought that it had gotten better after that. You never let on that this was going on. God, I don't even think Jack has a clue. You could have said something to one of us."

"Oh, honey, what good is it to dump all of my problems on the three of you? I love Jack, but I don't think this would have gotten a lot of serious thought if I went to him. And there's nothing any of you can do to help, anyway. How would anyone be able to benefit from that?"

"I could have given you someone who listened, long before now. I'm here for you, Karen. I could have been all along."

It was simple, they both knew that, but to Karen, it meant the world. That's what she was missing out on, keeping everything locked up, letting her guard shoo away the bystanders wanting a peek inside. "I appreciate you listening now. Kind of makes me wonder why I never said anything before."

"We've got all night, I'm not going anywhere. So why don't you say a little more now? Only if you want to." And god, Karen wanted to. Until now, she was content in keeping her mouth shut, not letting even a crack of light in from the other side. But damn it, she wanted to speak. She had to.

So she did. She told Grace everything, the insecurities, the doubts in her relationship, the times that she thought she couldn't do it anymore. She tried to make Stan look somewhat sensitive to her needs in the end, but when it came down to it, he sounded like an inconsiderate bastard in her story, and especially now, she didn't necessarily mind it. Let someone else see the Stan Walker she sees. See how they like him then. And as she let everything out, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on Grace, even when the things she had to say made her want to close her eyes. She wanted to know exactly how the red head would take all of this in. Grace sat there, unmoving, lips in a straight line and eyes that seemed to stop at the surface at one turn and look right through her at another. When she couldn't speak anymore, Karen shrugged, said softly, "That's it, I guess," and watched the woman next to her, unable to gauge her reaction.

She never expected Grace to wrap her arms around her neck and take her in a gentle hug, without a word.

Grace was completely overcome by what Karen had just told her. She figured that things were tense in the Walker household; it was the sole reason she found the socialite outside of her office door four years ago, looking for a place to rest her head during the week. But she didn't have a clue about the constant thoughts of leaving, the silence she had to face every day. It made her feel guilty for thinking Karen's reasons for working for her laughable in the beginning. So when she wrapped her arms around Karen, it was part apology for something she never filled the dark haired woman in on, part sympathy, and part attempt to make her feel like she wasn't alone.

But then…

That feeling. The warmth. Even when Karen was at her darkest, even when she looks like she could chill you with her story, she had that warmth. And it was the first thing Grace noticed. That one thing that set her mind running a mile a minute this morning had come back full force, just when she had succeeded in pushing it to the back of her mind. She wondered if Karen knew what she was doing. She wondered if Karen felt it too. Or maybe it was all in her mind. Maybe it was only her, in which case only put her into a deeper part of hell.

Either way, when she pulled away to look at Karen, saw the smile on her face, she couldn't help herself. And the worst part was that if this blew up in her face, she wouldn't be able to blame it on the one glass of wine. She felt herself leaning in.

And before she knew it, Grace brushed her lips against Karen's with Lady Day singing in the background, as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on, as if this were just a normal action.


	5. Think It Over

_Then_

She figured it would happen. It seemed inevitable, so why try to fight it? There was no point. She knew that if she tried to intervene, it would only make things more awkward than they already. So when she watched the red head walk out of the office, calling it an early day, Karen knew what to expect when she went back home. Which is why she couldn't bring herself to immediately follow Grace out of the building, why she sat at her desk staring blankly towards the middle of the room, trying to piece together everything that had happened.

Thinking about the way they left things this morning, the way they acted last night, she wasn't even sure how to begin feeling about it all.

Karen woke up this morning with an aching back, underneath the soft blanket she had brought into the room the night before, next to a sleeping red head. The empty bottles of wine—in order to break what could have been an awkward silence after the kiss, Karen ran downstairs to grab another bottle, something to take their minds off of everything—and their glasses were standing in front of them, watching over them. The music had long since died, leaving a silence in its wake that was bordering on unbearable. They didn't go further than Grace's lips brushing against Karen's, and they didn't talk about it. Best to sweep it under the rug, blame it on the wine, although there may not have been enough to make a plausible excuse, and move forward. Too much has changed in Karen's life in such a short period of time. She didn't want to lose Grace because of some freak lapse of judgment. It would break her heart clean through.

She tiptoed her way quietly from the library to her bedroom and changed out of her stale clothing. She wouldn't let herself think about the night before, at least not until Grace had left for the day. She didn't want her thoughts and the red head's presence to mesh together. She didn't want to know what that mess would look like. She felt the fabric of last night slip off of her body before putting on a clean dress. And when she turned around, she saw Grace at the door, the blanket they had used wrapped around the red head's shoulders, a look of so many things troubling her pale face.

How long had she been in the doorway?

"I, uh…" Grace was the first one to speak, and Karen was so thankful. She wouldn't know what to say if she had to start. At least she could fake her way through a response. "I just think we should get this out of the way now, so we can put it behind us, or whatever it is we need to do." Grace looked down at her hands for a moment, unable to look Karen in the eye. "Last night…what exactly did it mean?"

The light from the windows made Grace's hair spark into a glowing fire, but could not break through the look in her eyes. And at that moment, Karen couldn't figure out what would be easier for her: to shrug it off and tell her not to worry about it, or to actually answer her question. She knew what would be easier for herself; she had no idea what last night meant, she was just as confused as Grace appeared to be. She wouldn't be able to find the answer if all of the lights were on and it was lying in the middle of an empty room. But she had to say something. Grace was waiting for her.

She shrugged, looked at the red head and her crossed arms. "Whatever you want it to mean," she said. "I'm not the one who started it all. I can't make that decision." Such a childish thing to say, but in this stripped down situation, she was reduced to this logic and only this. It could very well not amount to anything. It could very well make things worse. But right now, there was no other option.

"I know. I just don't…I don't get it. I think yesterday was just an off day all around." She paused for a moment, and Karen wanted to ask her about her comment. But it wouldn't help to push the matter. "I don't know what I was thinking. I'm sorry that it happened, I'm taking full responsibility on this one. I think it's best if we just don't talk about it anymore."

"You don't have to apologize, Grace. It's okay."

"No. No, it's really not." Grace sighed and looked into Karen's eyes. "Promise me you won't say a word about this. Promise me you won't say anything to Nathan."

"Yeah, I promise. Don't worry about it." With that, the red head was gone. But the one thing Karen noticed more than anything about their conversation was the fact that Grace never told her what that kiss actually meant. And now that she was in the office, sitting at her desk feeling this woman's presence across the room, she couldn't help but let her mind wander into the thoughts that should probably be forbidden.

Karen looked up from her desk and stole a glance at Grace, keeping her stare on her until she saw the red head's eyes shift. She didn't want to get caught. She didn't want to be forced to explain herself, especially with the things running in circles around her mind. When Grace kissed her last night, when she felt those lips brush sweetly against her own, she didn't pull away, even though everything about the situation screamed at her that she should have. After it happened, after she excused herself and rushed downstairs for another bottle of wine, she didn't take the time to analyze her inaction. Better to sweep it to the side, deal with it in the morning. But now that she had nothing but a worn copy of _Vogue_ to keep her occupied, it was all she could think about.

And all she could think about was the fact that she didn't mind it.

From the minute Karen met her, Grace had always piqued her curiosity. It was the fact that they had met as potential employer and employee that set boundaries that nobody cared to cross. But if she had to be honest, as long as the red head didn't catch wind of it, she would say this: in another time, at another place, under different circumstances, she would have been able to look at Grace and flirt. She would have been able to buy her a drink just to see where it led. Because it wasn't as if she wasn't absolutely stunning, and it wasn't as if Karen didn't notice. But there were facts that could not be refuted, that put them in their places. Karen was married. She and Grace built a friendship that was too thick to break through.

Although now, Karen's marriage was disintegrating. Their friendship reached unknown territory. But even if she wanted to, she wouldn't be able to begin trying to get to Grace in another way. But maybe…

Grace never said what last night meant to her. That hasty request to keep quiet was obviously out of guilt, sure, but what kind? Guilt for potentially taking advantage of Karen? Or guilt for acting willfully on something while still working through another? Grace wasn't drunk, she couldn't blame anything on the wine no matter how hard she tried. But what did it matter anyway? She wouldn't budge, even if Karen wanted it.

And everything was getting so blurred that Karen couldn't tell what she wanted.

In the early afternoon, Nathan walked in unannounced. Grace put a smile on her face as if nothing was troubling her; maybe nothing was (it was more than Karen could say for herself). She pressed her lips against his and Karen wondered if they could still taste like a forbidden kiss hours after the fact. When Grace pulled away, she looked into Karen's eyes for the first time in the office in a stern yet anxious way, as if everything that happened last night would be spilled then and there. With Nathan's back to her, Karen put up her hands in surrender, although she wasn't quite sure for what she was accepting defeat.

"Why don't you take off early today?" Nathan asked. "I'll take you out, we'll get some dinner. Spend the night together. It feels like I haven't been able to talk to you in so long." She watched Grace smile for him and nod, went through the motions of someone with a carefree mind. Karen gave a smile to the man when he turned around, said goodbye when they left as kindly as she could in the demeanor they expected and waited to hear the door shut behind them.

She put her head in her hands and waited a few minutes to be sure that they were far away from the building before she even began to pack up her things and leave the office. She didn't want to run into them on her way home, didn't want to make anything more awkward than it already was. She opened her desk drawer to fish for her pack of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it. Grace always made sure that she didn't smoke inside, but Grace wasn't here, and she needed to kill some time. She took a drag, watched as the air around her became clouded with smoke. Normally, it would have been hypnotic enough to distract her, or at least put her in a blank state. It was the reason she started smoking in the first place. It was down time, even for a few short minutes. It was time to pause everything going on around her. It usually worked.

Her mind was still running as she put the cigarette to her lips. Things were different now.

Karen put on her coat with her half-smoked cigarette between her lips before walking out the door. She couldn't stand to be here anymore, even if the option of going home wasn't any better. By the time she walked into the penthouse, Karen figured that Grace and Nathan were back on Riverside, if not out to dinner, spending the time together that they hadn't gotten while the red head spent time making an effort to be a good friend (and look where that effort got her). She poured herself some wine in the kitchen and welcomed the silence in a room that didn't have the stains of last night's memories. Running her finger along the rim of the glass, she wondered if she should prepare herself for Grace's return. Plan out what to say, the gestures, the actions. Anything to make it as comfortable as possible for each other.

Would it even make a difference?

Karen watched the sun set, drew a bath. She climbed into bed, turned off the lights, pulled the covers to her chin. She kept an ear out for the opening of the door, although she wasn't sure why. And as she closed her eyes, she wasn't surprised.

Grace didn't come back that night. And there wasn't any reason to expect her to come back at all.


	6. What If

_"What if I was someone different in your only history?  
>Would you feel the same<br>As I walk out the door  
>Never to see your face again?"<br>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" _

_Now_

It had always come to my mind before, but in different forms, in different inflections. At first it was playful, highlighting what I thought was my luck. Said with a smile when you weren't there, an "Isn't it funny how things work out" tacked onto the end for emphasis. Then it became a serious reflection on what we had done to my life. That was before its final incarnation, the one I'm feeling right now. Said with a scoff or thought with something that feels like regret but isn't exactly that, behind it a wish for the ache to go away.

If you had just said that one word that he was fishing for, if you had just said yes instead of causing the tangle of emotions and ideals the two of you eventually got caught up in, none of this would have happened in the first place. You have to know that. At some point, you had to have stopped for a moment and considered how that one choice created the domino effect that had fallen upon our days together. You had to have wondered, at least once since it started, maybe once or twice more since it ended, about the way things could have been.

I can't be the only one.

After the initial shock and the fumble for normality, things went back to the way they were. I never said a word; say what you will about me, but I have always kept every promise I've ever given. You loosened up once you realized that I wasn't going to use that night against you in any way. And for a while, it seemed as though Nathan would be there to stay forever. You had never been so happy before (I like to think that I brought you back to that level, if I didn't take you a little higher, but I can't be sure if that's really how it went). So when he proposed to you, although it wasn't the way you imagined it, everyone thought that you would immediately have said yes to him. But you got caught up in the semantics, and the back and forth became too much for him. It was a game you thought you would be able to win, but in reality, you never had a chance.

All because of one tiny word.

Do you realize how different things would be now, if we simply moved on like that? That smile you gave Nathan would be on your face for good. You probably would never have met Leo, and even if you did, he certainly wouldn't have made as big an impact on you. We would have been able to keep that bond that we worked so hard to get back again. Your announcement would have elicited genuine happiness from me instead of the forced reaction I knew you were expecting out of all of us. I'd be sitting in this spot without this weight on my chest, without the memories of your chest pressed against my back and your lips pressed against my shoulder.

Better to have loved and lost. You hear it all the time, but right now, I want to know what's so damn good about it. Because now that I've had it, and now that it's gone, I miss it more than I thought possible. And I can guarantee you, Grace, that if we had never started our affair, if you had never used my spare key that fated night, I wouldn't be feeling the ache nearly as much as I am now.

All of this floats around in my mind, and you'd think that there wouldn't be any more room. But always defying expectations, I shove one more question in between it all: what if I was someone else? Would everything have played out in the same way? Would you have still chosen him over me?

I can't help but think that your preconceptions, and the things that I let you see prior to that first kiss, had a part in shaping the way you felt about me. You saw another side that I never show anyone; I let you in against my better judgment. And yet, I always had the feeling that the image you originally built of me kept you from seeing what was in front of you. I can't tell you how many times I wanted to ask you. You'd be stunning with a glass of wine in your hand, breathtaking with your eyes fluttering in and out of sleep, gorgeous with your fingers woven with mine. And there'd be a lull in conversation, so soft as if it would break with a breath. It would be at the gate of my lips, the question mark already forming on my tongue. But I could never let it loose, because I knew what you would say.

_Grace, would it be different if I were someone else?_ And your response would have been something along the lines of _I wouldn't want you to be someone different. I just want you to be you. That's all I need_. Because it would be what you think I want to hear. But you would be avoiding the question altogether, because deep down, you wouldn't really know the answer.

Maybe it would have been more difficult on us if I had been someone different, if I had just walked into your life all those months ago instead of hanging around for four years before the fact. Maybe it would have made it all a bigger deal. Because when I walked out the door, you would never see me again, and you would have to live with that. I wouldn't have any other connections to you; I wouldn't have any reasons to stick around. And we would both realize how hard it would be never to get a glimpse of each other after that door shut. But that's not what happened; it never could have been like that. We knew each other too well. You pay me to sit across the room from you eight hours a day, five days a week. And you knew that although you would never see me in the light we once shed, you would still see me. I wouldn't go away. Would it make a difference if I did? I have a feeling you would avoid answering that question, too.

Avoidance. Opting to keep quiet, to not talk about what we were doing, the implications, the future. In a sick way, that's what fueled our relationship all along.

I remember when Nathan broke up with you, when your misery left you bed-ridden and we tried everything we could to break that spell that gripped you. I wouldn't tell Will—that would have broken the promise I gave you, and even if I did break it, I wouldn't be able to explain to him the real reason for my resistance—but I didn't want to go in there. I didn't want to be the one to try and get you out of bed. Thinking about the last time we were put in a situation when one of us had to comfort the other, I knew that it would bring up that memory, even if we didn't speak about it outright. But I saw Will and Jack look at me expectantly, like I had a duty to fulfill, and I guess I did. I knew I wasn't helping at all when I sat with you, and I don't know why you didn't just tell me to leave. You should have. I wasn't doing you any good; you looked tired, you looked broken, and I couldn't even begin to fix you. We were on the same level then. We were both alone. We were both looking for something we couldn't find with the people we thought we left it with. I guess it was only natural to eventually try and find it in each other. But I never would have given it a second thought if it weren't for your audacity.

I wasn't expecting you to come back to the penthouse at all. I wasn't expecting you to walk in and lay down beside me like it was second nature. But you did, for certain reasons I can't figure out and will never fully know about. And look where we are now. I can't say that it's entirely your fault that it started. I think it's safe to say that we both contributed to it. But that didn't mean we should have.

Maybe that's why you didn't speak at all that first night back, when you came back to me in the moonlight and I didn't move when you climbed into my bed and wrapped your arms around my waist, racing over the line that we had originally established when we got back from the prison visit (avoiding the issue, keeping quiet, like always). Maybe that's why I didn't question you and kept the silence that you covered us with, like a blanket shielding us against the cold. We knew that we probably shouldn't have done it. We also knew that it was most likely going to happen anyway.

But my god, Gracie…how could either of us have predicted this?

From your profile, standing up there in front of everyone, I can tell that you're smiling at him, and why wouldn't you be? It's your day. It's all about the two of you and the life you're about to begin together. They're all expecting you to smile, and I know you're going to deliver. For a moment, I think that if I keep still like this and close my eyes, I will be okay. It will be easier to zone out of your vows, it will be easier to swallow once this is all over. But then you throw me for a loop.

You turn your head, and find my eyes. And I can't believe how hard it is to see you looking at me, directly at me like you used to do. With that same smile that made it impossible to contain my own. It's a throwback to everything I once had, everything I wish I still had in my grasp. And at this point, it's not a pleasant throwback. I don't know if you even realize what you're doing. I'm realizing it for the both of us.

I curl my lips to return a smile that was never meant for me in the first place. It's all I know how to do at this point. I don't know why you chose to look at me; maybe to be certain I wouldn't make a scene (there's nothing to gain from that) or to see if I was actually here in the first place (I told you that I keep my promises), or to see how I looked, to see how I was reacting to it all (I wouldn't blame you for your curiosity, but honestly, you should know me better than that; you know that the only times I ever let any of my emotions show were when I was alone with you). Whatever the reason, your eyes disappear from sight just as quickly as they arrived. And I know—I knew as soon as I saw your eyes trying to pierce through mine—that I won't be able to swallow this one at all.

If you had just said yes to Nathan, if you had just told me to leave when I was trying to help. If I was someone different in your world. If, if, if…it's a horrible cycle, and I want to break it. But time and experience have taught me that I can't do it on my own.

"Doesn't she look gorgeous in that dress?" I hear Jack whisper into my ear. It's the truth, and I want to tell him that, but the words are lodged in my throat, and they won't come loose. Even if they did, I know my voice wouldn't be able to hold up long enough for me to get it all out. All I can do is nod.

He doesn't know what you've set off inside of me.


	7. The Key

_Then_

She still had the key. Karen never asked for it back, and Grace never made the move to return it. In all honesty, she forgot that she had it until she felt the cold metal at the bottom of her purse and fished it out. She had placed it on her nightstand for safekeeping, with good intentions and thoughts of slipping it back into Karen's hand. But the days had gone by, the silver growing colder and colder from lack of touch, and since she was never reminded of it, she let her forgetfulness reign. It was a quality that usually sunk her.

Right now, though, she was thinking that it wasn't such a bad thing.

With everything that had been going on, despite the fact that she felt as though she was moving on from Nathan, Grace knew that Karen was the only one who could understand her. It didn't matter if it seemed like Grace had the more stable, the happier relationship of the two. It didn't matter if Karen had thoughts of leaving Stan long before he was forced to go away, or that they had spent their days shouting at each other rather than talking, if they spoke to each other at all. It was still the same thing; there was someone there, and now he was gone. And no matter how they conducted their relationships, that loss was hard to handle.

Being so close to marriage, being in the middle of it, having it slip from your fingers like rain. It was something that Will just couldn't grasp, even though Grace loved that he tried. She could tell by the things he said. He knew about the end of love, better than a lot of people. Spending seven years with a man just to watch him walk out the door was enough to shift your world. But no matter what he said, she never felt like he truly got it. And she was dying to talk to Karen. She just wasn't sure if that bridge was completely burned yet.

They hadn't spoken of that kiss, and until her break-up with Nathan, Grace thought that they had gotten over it, paved the way to their version of normality. But then he left, and just like that, Grace was taken back to that night, the morning after, all the confliction and overanalyzing. She knew that Karen could sense that something was wrong, but she never called her out on it. Deep down, she was glad. She didn't want to talk about it again; not with Karen, not with anyone. Talking got her tangled in a mix of too many things she wanted to do without.

But silence on the outside made these thoughts so much louder on the inside.

Lying on her bed, she turned to face the nightstand, saw the key resting on the surface. Since Nathan left, she could barely keep her mind off of that night with Karen. How at that moment, it didn't feel wrong, and it didn't seem out of the ordinary. How Karen didn't pull away. That was the one thing that she was stuck on. Karen didn't pull away. If it hadn't been for the fact that she ended the kiss on her own, how far would they have let it go? How would it have been the morning after?

Would Karen still be interested if it happened again?

The key on the nightstand was too tempting with these thoughts floating around. Every time Grace thought about it, she couldn't come up with any other reason than her relationship with Nathan as to why she stopped things before they could go to a place they could never from which they could never return. But that wasn't an issue anymore. And it wasn't as though that kiss was the worst thing in the world. In fact, she was secretly longing for the way that felt. She tried to find it in something else, anything else, but got nowhere. And all she wanted to do was turn those wheels. But she'd settle for at least seeing Karen right now.

Will had scooped her up in a hug before he went to bed, he could sense that something was off, but despite his attempt to make her feel better, she only felt more alone. She loved his efforts. She just wished his efforts were enough. What would be the worst to happen if she went over to the penthouse? Karen would be asleep? She would say that it's too late for this, to come back later? She wasn't planning on doing anything. She wasn't planning on rekindling whatever spark was there before. She was just looking for a place that didn't feel so suffocating. Grace sat upright on the bed and picked up the key.

She knew it was late, but she had to go to the one place where she knew she'd be understood.

* * *

><p>It was one thing to believe that your husband was starting to check out of the marriage. It was another to have him verbally confirm it.<p>

She knew that he didn't mean it like that. Telling her that if she happened to sleep with someone while he was away, it would be okay. No reason for her to be lonely. She knew Stan. She realized that he probably meant that he felt bad about the fact that he was leaving her alone. But it came out like he didn't care what she did with her free time. Giving her a free pass like that. It hurt to know that she had been as supportive as she could be this entire time, only to hear something as demeaning to their marriage as that slip from his lips. But now that a week had passed since that Thanksgiving visit, she found herself detaching from her marriage even more than she had before. She found herself completely alone.

She found herself longing for someone who felt the same way. No. Not just someone. Grace. She was the closest person to her who could relate. But Karen hadn't held a legitimate conversation with her since Nathan left; it was obvious what they were both thinking. And it was better not to rehash it, put a bigger burden on each of them. They knew what happened the last time Karen started to talk about anything real; just because they were able to bounce back from it once didn't mean they had the strength to do it again.

Still, it would be a hell of a lot more comforting if Grace were here.

Karen didn't know what it was about tonight that made her feel the chill of solitude more than ever. But as she lit her cigarette, she walked out onto the balcony to feel the cold air, to put a physical feeling to an internal problem. She used to do this when Stan was still around, coming out here at night just to feel something, even if it made her shiver. And when he found her out there, he thought her crazy. Perhaps she was. But at least she didn't try to cover it up, which was more than she could say for her current state. No one was around to look for her. No one was around for her to explain these things to. Sure, she told Will and Jack and Grace about Stan's proposition as soon as she got back in that car, but she was certain they only took it at face value. Well. Maybe Grace didn't, but she acted like it for her own benefit. It would only be when the two women were alone that Karen would begin to feel as though someone understood. But it was a long shot to get Grace alone.

The orange glow of the tip of her cigarette had reached her fingers, and as she put it out, she sighed and looked at the inside of the library. Everything in this house seemed bigger to her now, she was starting to realize. It was different when Grace was here. As Stan made his exit, the red head immediately made her entrance. She had been gone for some time now, but the fact that they had become awkward with each other put a heavy emphasis on this newfound isolation she wasn't sure she wanted. And now even the tiniest spaces seemed too big for her. She hated it.

When she got to the bedroom, she pulled back the sheets and climbed in. The pillow caught her head as she thought about the cycle. Tomorrow would be like this. And the next day. For who knows how long. Stan still didn't give her a definite answer as to when he'd be released. It was too much. She needed to know when it would end, for her own sanity. Everything that was swimming in her head wouldn't slow down, it wouldn't let her close her eyes and sleep. It kept her occupied in ways she never wanted.

She was too busy with these thoughts to hear the front door to the penthouse open.

* * *

><p>She didn't make a sound when she turned the lock and opened the door. If any of the help were awake, they didn't make themselves known. She tiptoed up the stairs, slowly, hoping that the wood would not creak underneath her feet; she didn't know what she would do if she were suddenly confronted, if she were asked why she was here. Because honestly, she wasn't quite sure of her reasons; she just knew what she felt in the pit of her stomach, and she knew that there was only one way to start to fix things.<p>

The silence calmed her. She saw that the door to the bedroom was open and froze. What the hell was she doing? Was this considered breaking in? She had a key, she didn't have to force her way in here, but what were the chances that the spare key was remembered in the first place? How could she walk in like this was normal? Nothing about this was normal.

But that was the thrill.

She saw her there, underneath the sheets, lying down on her left side. She couldn't tell if Karen was sleeping, but she hoped to god that she was. One step forward, and then another. As she got closer, she could smell a hint of gardenia, and felt herself slowly becoming intoxicated by it all. She stopped at the edge of the bed. Well. You're here, Grace. If you're going to do it, do it now.

She crawled into the empty side of the bed, felt the mattress give beneath her weight and knew that Karen could probably feel it too. If Karen was awake, she didn't move, maybe to be nice, to make it easier for her. Grace slowly slid her arms around Karen's waist. She could feel the warmth of Karen's body against her own, and she had to admit that it started to put her at ease. At the same time, she knew that she probably shouldn't be here. She started to feel her body want to move, want to leave. If Karen was asleep, she wouldn't know that Grace was here. It was that simple. But as soon as she made her mind up to go, she felt that soft touch on her hands.

"Welcome back," Karen whispered. And she could feel the red head's smile against her back as they fell asleep.


	8. Actions Speak Louder

_Then_

For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Karen woke up in the morning with a genuine smile on her face.

It wasn't because she and Grace had picked up where they left off (although, if Karen had to be completely honest, she wouldn't have objected to it). It wasn't because she got everything off her chest she wanted or needed to (that would have put too much weight on the situation, anyway). It was the fact that when she opened her eyes, she wasn't alone. And after the night she had had, it was more than she could ask for. The red head was still asleep when she woke up and as she slipped out of bed so as not to wake her, Grace's grip on her waist weakened from sleep, and got dressed for the day. When she looked over at the sleeping woman in her bed, she wished she could figure out what was going on inside of her. Grace gave no tells; in every other situation she had the worst poker face in the world, but now she kept neutral. If it bothered her, Karen couldn't tell. She was just grateful that someone had reached out like that, punching a hole in the wall she put up when she was first introduced to Grace's group.

As much as she loved and cared about Jack and Will, she had to give Grace credit, even if she came over for her own benefit (she might have been feeling lonely too, so why not try to remedy the situation?). It was something the guys just didn't do, whether or not they thought to do it. She understood why, and didn't blame them. They wouldn't know how to handle it, this persona of hers shifting from something they knew all too well to something that, paired with Karen, seemed foreign and unusual. Grace was giving her what no one else could. And she was doing a hell of a job.

Karen had arrived at the office before Grace, a surprising feat given her track history. She watched the sun filter in through the window, the rays landing on the fabrics the red head laid out yesterday and never put back. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why Grace walked in to the penthouse last night. Some crazy psychic pull, her own loneliness. A random whim. Karen couldn't explain it, but she knew she shouldn't question it. For someone to reach out like that was rare, especially in a world where acquaintances only care to know you because of your status. As soon as Stan was sent to prison, the socialite world had closed its doors on her, the so-called friends who strained for conversation before pretending her name didn't ring a bell. That is, after the need for gossip had been satiated, and they could return to the dull cycle of dinners and openings, parties you hoped to god you wouldn't be invited to. The thing that made her wince the most was that even though she normally cared less about these women, it hurt her to know how easily she could be dropped. And then in comes Grace, ready to break the fall. In comes Grace to wrap her arms around the problem and whisk it away.

In comes Grace, hurried, frowning, rushing to her desk in a frenzy, ready to rip the smile off of Karen's face with a stare and a hard tone.

She watched as the red head scrambled along her desk in search of a sketchbook. She was frantic, a far cry from the still and serene figure she had been earlier this morning. When she once would see this scene and not think twice, she now looked at the woman across the room and was overwhelmed with the desire to make whatever was troubling her disappear. She saw Grace collapse into her seat in an exasperated sigh and cleared her throat. "Is everything okay?" she asked softly.

Grace looked up at her with a glare that she wasn't expecting. "Why didn't you wake me up this morning?"

Her voice was cold and took Karen aback. Had she seriously done something wrong? "I wanted you to get some rest. You came in late last night, I thought that maybe you didn't get a lot of sleep before then. I didn't want to wake you when I left. Why, what's going on?"

"Thanks to the rest I got, I slept through the time I set aside to finish this presentation. I'm not going to be ready by the time my client comes in." She had mumbled something else, but it had gotten lost in the rustle of sheets of paper slipping through her fingers. "What are you doing to me?" It was so soft that Karen almost didn't hear it, but it was there. The look on Grace's face resembled a deer in the headlights; something that shouldn't have hit the air had spilled onto the floor, leaving her with nothing to do but wait to see how Karen cleans it up.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to come over last night. I didn't know that you didn't get all of your work done. You can't blame this one on me, Grace. You shouldn't have stayed the night like that if you knew you would have to get to work early. It's not my fault." Karen paused, and Grace thought for a moment that she didn't hear the question that she wished she could take back, or maybe it was misunderstood. But then…"Why did you come over last night, anyway?"

Oh god. There was no way to fully answer that. She didn't know. It was only instinct, but she could never tell Karen that. Right? That wasn't how they functioned, that wasn't how they were normally. If you could call what they were normal to begin with. How could she tell Karen that she just felt this magnetic pull towards her, that she knew that if she was near her, it would put her at ease? There weren't enough words to make it seem like no big deal. And it was a big deal. Sure, she wasn't in a relationship anymore, there wasn't a boyfriend holding her back. But it wasn't just anyone she was dealing with. It was Karen. She had filled her mind with the desire to melt the ice queen, and to warm herself in the process. If it wasn't an impossible task, it was one in which you would come out the other side badly broken. She took a deep breath to brace herself and shrugged off the question. "Just forget about it. Can we talk about this later?"

Silence. Grace looked at Karen for a few minutes before Karen looked down at her hands. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of relief. They let it go. It would be fine. Focus on the presentation and finish what you can. It wouldn't have done any good for her to talk in circles, dizzying not only herself but Karen as well. Too much confusion, too much weight to put on either of them. She picked up a pencil and put it to her sketchpad, thinking that, for the time being, any verbal crisis had been averted.

But Karen wasn't having it.

It didn't make sense to her. Grace was the one to make that first move, the soft kiss against Billie Holiday's singing that tasted like wine and empathy. Grace was the one to find her way back into her bed last night. Grace was the one to do it all, and it all suggested that she was feeling something similar to what Karen was feeling. As much as she wanted to laugh at the notion, she knew it was true. Grace had awakened something inside of her, and it would not be satisfied until she got the red head in her arms. But she was not going to make that move. No, she knew how to cope with insatiable longing, she knew how to live with it. So if she had to do it again, it wouldn't make much of a difference. If anything, it would smooth things out. But Grace…Grace was a different story.

In the four years that Karen had known her, she had never known Grace to keep a completely emotionless front on the surface. She had missed presentations before, she had let it go down to the wire in the past, and she had never seemed this distressed about it. Karen knew that her deadline had nothing to do with it. She knew that it was that late night visit, and all the implications that went with it. It wasn't as though Karen hadn't thought about all of that before. It was just that she had come to terms with it, accepted it, long before Grace did.

She understood the theory—keeping quiet and wishing it away. She had done it more times than she cared to recognize throughout her life. But with that experience, she learned that there were certain instances where it didn't work. And if Grace did know how to be the one to speak up, Karen would gladly do it for her. She watched as the red head tried to immerse herself in her work, took a breath, and began to speak.

"You shouldn't fight with what you want, Grace. Nobody wins that way. I don't understand what you're trying to deny, or what you won't let yourself feel, but you look miserable, and I know it's not just because of this stupid presentation. There's no one here to stop you. I'm certainly not going to, although if you choose to do nothing, I won't fight you on it. What do you want to do?"

Grace looked at her with wide eyes. How could Karen know everything when she had said nothing? Was it the way she climbed underneath the covers and wrapped her arms around Karen that whispered it to her? Did something in her eyes give it away? She had done a flawless job of keeping it away from Will, from Jack, from Nathan when she actually needed to; she just didn't realize that keeping it away from the one person it involved would be the one task she couldn't achieve.

Maybe she should just do it.

She let the pencil slip from her fingers onto her desk. She couldn't figure out why she felt such an overpowering nervousness in her chest; it wasn't as if she was doing anything new, it wasn't as if she was ever stopped before (if anything, she thought Karen welcomed it, although it could just be wishful thinking). But all those times before, it had been of her own free will. She was never prompted to do this. But maybe she needed to be, if she was going to get anywhere with this.

"Are you sure?" she heard Karen whisper into her mouth. Grace held her face in her hands and looked into her eyes. All she could do was nod, before she leaned in again and felt the contact with Karen's lips. The way Karen relaxed against her body, the way she tasted of all the things she had been craving; she missed it. And she knew that from now on, she wouldn't have to miss it anymore.

Suddenly, the presentation didn't seem so important at the moment.


	9. Chelsea Incognito

_Then_

Her eyes darted across the room in a constant race from one wall to the other. She had checked and re-checked the place for anyone that may have looked even vaguely familiar. She knew it was crazy, perhaps a little overdramatic, but she couldn't shake the feeling that someone would find out. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was, on some level, a crime. But amidst the casual flannel sitting in the seats and the scream of the espresso machine overtaking the room, she realized that if it was a crime, she would get away with it here; some small coffeehouse on a lower Chelsea street that she had never heard of before (and if she never heard of it, she was certain Will and Jack had never heard of it either). It should feel safe. It should.

But still…

Grace couldn't help but feel this overwhelming sensation that she was on display for everyone to see. They weren't looking at her, but she still felt judgmental eyes, and she couldn't figure out why. Maybe because she ignored Will's questions about where she was going (not that he was begging for an answer; it had become a reflex by now, but it still made her falter as she walked out the door), maybe because she was acting on something she had tried to quell. Or maybe she just wasn't used to it yet, being able to start something that probably would have happened long ago, if it weren't for the circumstances. Not that the circumstances were that much better now; of course, they didn't necessarily have to hide it from the guys, but something like this always changed the dynamics of a group, and if it ends before it truly has a chance to start, that shift would be for nothing. And it would be her fault. But she had to admit, it looked a lot nicer than the infidelity that could have been a month earlier.

She was looking down at her hands as the door opened, letting the cold December air in for a few moments, and she wished she had that warmth that so easily radiated off of Karen. The watch on her wrist let her know that it was five minutes past their meeting time, and while Grace knew that the woman she was waiting for was not famous for her punctuality, she felt that chill of nervousness and she didn't know what for. It was probably a mistake, anyway, meeting like this. Isn't that how it always goes? You dream up something in your mind so much that when it finally happens, it's nowhere near that stellar image you created. And knowing her luck, Karen would lose interest as soon as she sat down next to her. It was something she couldn't bear to think of, not since she finally started coming to terms with what she wanted. She put her cup of coffee to her lips and contemplated leaving. And then that voice that had proven so strong and alluring a thousand times before pulled her back from the door.

"Now I'm starting to regret leaving my worn jeans at home."

Grace looked up at the sound of Karen's joke, saw her with a latte in hand and a smile across her lips. Karen put her coffee down on the table and slid out of her coat before taking a seat beside Grace. The red sting in her cheeks from the cold was still there; if anything, it made her more beautiful, at least in the red head's eyes. She smiled and played along. "Right. Because I'm sure your closet is filled with these plaid shirts, and you never have the opportunity to wear them."

"When you're right, you're right." Grace laughed as Karen took a sip of her latte to warm her up before speaking again. "So…" she started, "do you want to tell me why we're in Chelsea?" When she laughed, Grace couldn't help but smile. This is what she was waiting for. This is what made the waiting worth it.

"I just thought it would be easier this way. If we were uptown, we'd be more likely to run into someone. And I'm not sure if that should happen yet." She caught a glimpse of the dark haired woman out of the corner of her eye. "Plus, I wanted to see what it would look like if I took you out of your element," she said with a smirk in her voice.

"You'd be surprised," Karen said. "I was closer to this before I met Stan than you think. Circumstances change, people change. At least on the outside. I can still appreciate this kind of scene." She smiled and slid her arm along Grace's waist. Her smile dropped when she saw the red head's hesitant look and she pulled her arm away. "Sorry," she mumbled before warming up her hands with her coffee mug. And then, before she could stop herself, "What would be so bad about running into someone we knew?"

On some level, Karen understood. Seeing Will while they were hand in hand, lips pressed together as Jack looks on, would certainly make for some awkward conversation. But after the initial shock, what was there to worry about? She always thought highly of the men in their group, thought that they were understanding, certainly a lot more so than the majority of men that have walked in and out of her life. At the news of two friends trying to create something bigger, she would have thought that the response would be nothing but positive.

Then again, she hadn't known them nearly as long as Grace had. But she thought she knew them well enough.

"I don't want to get ahead of ourselves, when we've just started…this." Grace wasn't exactly sure what to call it. It didn't seem like the start of a legitimate relationship, and she would be hesitant to call it that anyway. Karen was married (maybe that was the crime). She didn't want to make something that was honestly an innocent crush out to be something adulterous and deceptive. That's not how she thought of it at all. "What happens if we start this and realize that it's something that we don't want?"

"Well, if you look at it like that, then we'll go nowhere." Grace could feel Karen's eyes on her as she heard her words. But she couldn't tell if they were looking through her or trying to pull her out of the cycle her mind was running through. "Look, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. But just remember that you are the one that got the ball rolling in the first place. Don't doubt this. I'm not going to run off and tell Jack everything that happens between us today. I'm not going to tell him anything at all. And I have no reason to go spilling secrets to Will. I don't understand what you're so worried about."

"What about Stan?" There. That was it. That was the hot ball of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, and once she said it, she felt it slowly start to disappear. It wasn't as if she needed reassurance that Will and Jack wouldn't find out; Karen was good at keeping her lips tight about what she needed to keep secret. But Stan; Karen was still with him for a reason, although Grace couldn't figure out what it was. If Karen slipped, if she spoke a little too fondly of Grace in his presence, during visits, it would be nothing but trouble, and Grace couldn't help but feel fully responsible for it.

Karen sighed. "Stan's not here," she said bluntly. "He hasn't been fully here for a long time now. You know that. Even if I hadn't have told you everything that night, you knew that. Everyone does. They don't say anything out of kindness, but I can see it in their eyes whenever I'm around him. They realize that my marriage has grown into more and more of a sham as the days go by. If it were that easy to say that I want a divorce, I would do it. But now, especially with his stint in prison, it's next to impossible. I just…" she paused for a moment. She didn't know how to say this without drawing pity she didn't need or want. But she knew that there was no way of wording it that wouldn't elicit that kind of response. "If I keep going through life the way that I am, I'm never going to be happy. I'd like to feel something good at some point in my life."

Grace looked into her eyes, and Karen wished she could figure her out. "And you think that I could make you happy?" It wasn't what Karen expected to hear. But it was better than the alternative.

"I don't know," she said in a murmur. "But I've watched you, I've interacted with you for four years. And I think I can safely bet on you."

She watched as the red head moved a little closer to her. Progress. It was all she wanted. "You know, I've been so bogged down in trying to rationalize this," Grace said against the hum of life in the coffeehouse. "I get so lost in it all. I don't know what to think anymore."

"Maybe it's just best to go into this without thinking."

Silence. Grace wanted to say something against it, but she knew that Karen was right. Rationalizing, overanalyzing, it always got her into trouble. Just look at the way things ended with Nathan; too much emphasis on the right proposal, thinking it over and over about how the way he asked that question wasn't the way she had always dreamed it to be. Life was too short for it; it only took her until now to fully realize it.

She didn't know what to say; she just stared at Karen for a moment, in complete awe of the woman sitting beside her. Compared to her problems, Grace had nothing to worry about, yet she was the one to be reassured. It embarrassed her almost as much as it made her completely reevaluate her view of Karen. This woman didn't mind her irrationality. She didn't know whether that was a blessing or a curse, but right now, she liked it. She didn't know why Karen was acting this way with her. All Grace knew was that she wanted to try her damndest to make good on that wish, that notion. She wanted to be the one to make Karen happy.

In an effort to start up conversation again, anything to fill the silence, Grace grabbed her purse and started fishing through it. "I almost forgot," she said with her eyes in her lap. "I never gave you your spare key back from when I first spent the night."

Karen wrapped her hand around Grace's wrist softly, warmly, in an effort to stop the motion. "Why don't you hang onto it for a little while longer?" she said with a smile. "I think maybe you can get some more use out of it. Don't be afraid to use it." Cautiously, she made a move to brush a red lock from Grace's cheek, and her smile grew bigger when she saw that the red head didn't pull away. A little closer, and their lips met in a gentle kiss, unbeknownst to the rest of the coffeehouse. It was then, as Karen took that initiative, that Grace realized she had nothing to be afraid of. Nobody else cared. They could do as they pleased.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private?" Karen suggested. Grace nodded as she grabbed their mugs and cleaned off their table before they left.

When they started walking down the Chelsea street, Grace slipped her hand into Karen's and huddled against her to keep warm against the chill, not caring where they were going, not caring if anyone saw.


	10. Never Before Seen

_Then_

_Take me somewhere new. Someplace I wouldn't expect. Show me something I've never seen before._

The request was still ringing in her ears the morning after she came through on it. Today, it felt almost as though she had stepped out of a dream and into the start of the new work week. And as Jack walked into the office, looking for an ear for his trivialities and a good friend, Karen found it hard to concentrate on what was in front of her. How could she, knowing that the gateway to that dream was across the room, putting pencil to paper? She looked at Jack and gave him a friendly smile, hoping that he wouldn't put two and two together. But she couldn't help her mind wandering off to last night, the wonderfully comfortable state that she had fallen into with the woman across the way.

Murmured over faxed paperwork that Friday, she had thought that she had imagined it. But when Grace stepped away from the fax machine, she didn't go back to her desk; she stood beside Karen, willing her to lock eyes. And when she did…god, that smile. Karen had never seen a smile like that before, and she knew she would never see anything like it again. She wanted to burn it into her memory, keep it there for good.

"Are you sure you know what you're asking?" Karen asked. The hint of a smile, mixed with a slyness in her voice that Grace couldn't help but love. Trying to play it off like the red head should be nervous. But she knew she would be safe with her; it was never a question.

"I think I'll be okay. I've known you long enough to know that I can trust you." They set it for Sunday. Grace figured it would give her a day or two to figure out the details; Karen had it already planned as soon as the red head asked.

It was during one of the nights Grace had used the key. She had gotten there early—Will was working late and she wouldn't be missed, wouldn't be questioned if she happened to come in late that night, if at all—and they made their way out onto the library balcony. They kept the door open and Karen turned on the stereo, soft guitars coming to meet them as they bundled against the chill and watched the sun set on the city. Grace buried her way into Karen's arms, rested her head against her shoulder. Even as the cars and cabs drove by beneath them, there was a peaceful lull that surrounded them like a bubble, but it was one that would not break, that would keep them there for as long as they wanted. And Karen was certain that she wanted this as long as Grace could stand it.

She felt Grace's hold on her waist grow a little tighter and heard her voice float in the Manhattan air. "You know I've never seen the sunset on the skyline. I've always been in the middle of the island, I don't go into Brooklyn. I've never really had anything draw me outside of the city in a way that made me pay attention to the outline of the buildings. It's something that I've always wanted to see."

"It's really beautiful when you're out on the water," she murmured into Grace's ear. "Out on a boat in the river. There's nothing quite like it."

"Maybe you could take me out there sometime." And just like that, the conversation was forgotten, fleeing along with the sun, as they retreated back into the penthouse, into Karen's bed wrapped in each other's arms. Karen was certain that she would bring Grace to the marina, take one of Stan's boats and show her how the pinks and oranges of the ending day reflect against the water, shine along the skyscrapers. And when the red head prompted her, she knew that Grace didn't hold that much importance in what she said on the balcony.

She wouldn't see it coming.

When Grace came out of her Riverside apartment on Sunday, she didn't flinch when Karen got out of the cab to meet her and brushed her lips against her cheek. It was the closest to Will they had ever dared to expose their affection, but enough time had gone by now for Grace to slip into a state of relaxation, one that didn't consist of the paranoia she felt so easily in the beginning. The whole point of this was to unwind, to let herself go, let herself slip into the person she wanted to be when she was with Karen. "Where are we going?" Grace asked as she felt Karen's lips against her skin. "You told me to bundle up, make sure I was warm. Where exactly are you taking me?"

"And spoil the surprise? I don't think so. Come on, get in the cab, we're going to miss it if we keep standing around like this."

Karen slid her hand across the back seat of the cab, placed it over Grace's during the ride downtown. Passing Chelsea, passing Greenwich Village, going further downtown than either of them normally chooses to go on any normal occasion. Grace kept her eyes glued to the window on her side of the car. If she was nervous about the onset of things she didn't recognize, she didn't let it show. Karen knew she could look at Grace and pass it off to the cab driver as though she were staring out the window. She felt the warmth radiating from the red head's hand and realized that this is where she should be. It didn't matter if she was in a cab heading downtown, in a small coffeehouse in Chelsea, on the balcony of her penthouse or glancing across the office. As long as she was in a place where she could feel the impact of Grace's presence, she would be fine.

When the cab slowed to a stop at the marina, Karen led Grace out of the car and down to one of Stan's smaller boats. If he only knew what she was using it for. She climbed in and turned around for Grace, standing frozen on the dock, as if she didn't know what to do. Karen put on a smile and held out her hand for the red head to take. "You might have forgotten about your wish, but I certainly haven't. Come on." She helped Grace onto the boat and set sail. When they got to the middle of the river, she reached for the red head, pulled her in close to her chest and sat down with her in her arms.

"God, this is beautiful." Spoken in a hushed whisper, but it slipped its way into Karen's ear in the most peaceful way. It was bitter cold, the water surrounding them freezing the atmosphere even deeper, but it didn't seem to matter at all. They were hypnotized by the reflection of the setting sun on the water, the way the skyline was outlined by the changing colors of the sky. Suddenly, Grace looked into Karen's eyes; she swore she could see the pinks and oranges reflecting off of Karen's gorgeous hazel gaze. "No one's ever thought to do something like this for me. Ever. Why are you doing this?"

Karen smiled and kissed the crown of Grace's head. "Because you asked me to," she joked, before she realized that the red head's question was serious. "Because I was going to do it anyway, ever since you mentioned that you've never seen the sunset over the skyline. Because I wanted to make you smile. Because everyone should see the city like this, and not a lot of people get to. I'm just sorry it's so cold."

Grace watched Karen's breath become visible against the Manhattan air and smiled. She wrapped Karen's arms tighter around her waist. "I don't mind it. I don't mind it at all." They let the silence surround them for a moment as Karen's eyes studied the woman in front of them. Grace let out a soft laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. You're just absolutely stunning right now."

They kissed as the sun went down, pulled up to the dock as the sky turned black. And after they made their way back uptown, Grace followed Karen inside the penthouse and fell asleep in the way that had become so familiar, like second nature: her chest against Karen's back, their legs entwined, their breathing synced up in a way she hadn't experienced before. If there was ever a perfect night, this was certainly it.

Now, as Jack went on about the date he had over the weekend, some guy whose name she probably wouldn't remember even if she were giving him her full attention, she willed herself not to look at Grace. She didn't realize how difficult of a feat it could be. When she woke up in the morning, the red head was gone, and she knew it would be that way. She knew that Grace had to get home before Will woke up, if they wanted to keep their actions a secret. All she wanted to do when she walked in the office this morning was brush her lips against Grace's, give her a proper "good morning" before they started work. But just as quickly as Grace noticed Karen's entrance, Jack walked in, ready to give her every detail of his weekend.

She looked at him blankly as he spoke, hoping that she could play it off as being fully attentive. But he could tell. He caught on.

Jack stopped himself in his one-sided conversation and looked at his friend, tilted his head as if that would give him a better understanding of what he was seeing. He couldn't help but notice the smile on her face that lately hadn't been there. "What's this about?" he asked, gracing her cheek with his hand. "Why such a bright smile?"

Had she really not noticed the beaming grin? She put her hand to her mouth, convinced that Jack was joking, and sure enough it was there. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace stop what she was doing; it wasn't hard to overhear the talk at the assistant's desk. Karen wanted more than anything to meet her gaze, but she knew it would give too much away. Instead, she locked eyes with Jack and gave a light shrug.

"Nothing, it…it was a good night last night. I don't get to say that a lot," she said. And when Jack turned away she quickly stole a glance at Grace, saw the red head's sly smile. She gave a playful wink before Jack returned his attention to her.

He didn't notice a thing. And she played along like nothing was out of the ordinary.


	11. Eight Minutes To Midnight

_Then_

It had only happened like this once before. And she didn't know whether to take it as a good sign, or a signal for inevitable downfall. She hoped, more than anything, that it was a good thing, something that showed maturity, longevity. But that once experience made her wary; even when she says it doesn't affect her anymore, she's usually lying, she just doesn't fully realize it. She thought that because it was Karen, because it was the one person who knew more about heartbreak and what to do to prevent it than anyone she knew, it was a good sign. Not going too fast. Seeing where things led before jumping in and completely submerging yourself. She understood.

But, god, Grace was starting to get restless. And it sure as hell didn't help that Karen walked into this New Year's Eve party in a deep red dress that shattered the good intentions she once had of keeping to herself.

Will had decided to throw together a little something for a few friends at their apartment, nothing too extravagant but at the same time nothing too casual. In all honesty, Grace was glad that he had one more thing to occupy his time with; it gave her more opportunities to sneak out of the Riverside building to play on Park Avenue. It made her feel like a teenager defying Mom and Dad's curfew; it was a thrill she never truly acted on when the time was appropriate, a thrill she had to admit she loved now, despite the fact that she should have outgrown it. But whereas she would have gotten to her destination to fool around as a teenager, now she found herself journeying to the penthouse for that one thing in life that actually made sense. Of course, that didn't mean she would have challenged Karen if she took it a little further. Alone in that bed, their bodies brushing up against each other; all signs pointed to the one thing it never led to. In the beginning, Grace didn't mind it. She was still getting to know the boundaries they were setting, trying to figure out what it was they were actually doing. But it had been a couple of months since that first kiss, since she started to succumb to what she thought she wanted. And now that she had set her sights on Karen, all of Karen, she couldn't tell if she was being denied or if she was just being impatient.

The only other person who didn't give in to inevitable desires was Will. That short period in which they were dating, in which he turned her world upside down and shook her into a different perspective on life. Of course then, she didn't know that he was gay. She didn't know that he was trying to find a way to keep her in his life without breaking her heart. She didn't hold a grudge on him anymore. But every other guy that had walked into her life—Danny, Josh, Ben, Nathan—seemed to cut to the chase without hesitation. Karen, though…Karen was a different story, and Grace was searching for a plot twist.

Maybe it would feel like too much of a relationship if they gave in. They still hadn't verbally defined what they were doing, although in every sense of the word, it looked like they were a couple—even if they were an adulterous one—from the outside. But if you never put a description on it, how can you tell what it truly is? Grace never had trouble figuring out where she stood with the men she had dated. And she was pretty sure that Karen appreciated her, in her own way; she would have told Grace to leave her alone if she didn't. The red head was just hesitant to call what they were doing a relationship (she hated the word "affair," it implied so much she didn't want to deal with) without hearing it from Karen's lips first.

Right now, though, as she watched Karen walk through the door, Grace felt overwhelmed with the desire to stop the party, just to announce to everyone, "Yes. Her. She's with me." Karen gave her a quick and blank smile before making her way over to Jack. Grace watched as he embraced her with excitement, led her towards the drinks and settled into conversation. She wanted so badly to go over there, but there was no reason to other than the fact that she just wanted Karen's touch. And if she went there without a cause she could put into words, it would get her nowhere. She sighed and turned her attention back to Will, who had been watching her the whole time. "What?" she asked.

"What was that?" he said with a concerned look on his face. "You basically followed her around the room with your eyes. Not to mention you just sound exasperated. Did something happen between the two of you?"

Oh god. It couldn't have happened now, not this soon. It was rare that Grace kept something from Will—it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from him due not only to their close friendship, but to the fact that they were living together as well—but when she did, he always found out eventually, somehow. But it usually took longer than this. Don't let him see your panic, Grace. Keep calm. "What kind of something are you fishing for?" she asked and was surprised that it didn't come out in a shaky voice.

"I don't know, some fight at the office, maybe she said something to you that sat the wrong way. She does have a tendency to do that, you know."

She closed her eyes, grateful for the fact that he hadn't caught on. "No, nothing happened. I just…" Quick, come up with something, don't leave any suspicion. "I just didn't think she would come tonight. I thought maybe she'd have some other place to be."

"Well, you've seen the way that circle has shunned her since Stan went away. Maybe she didn't have anywhere else to go." Grace looked at him; she knew his voice was full of sympathy that wasn't necessarily needed. As he walked away, she couldn't help but smile, knowing she had avoided the unveiling she had been dreading all along. Her eyes wandered over to the couch where Karen and Jack were sitting, fixed them on Karen, willing her to lock eyes. And when she finally did, Grace covertly, motioned towards the hallway, towards her bedroom, before making sure Karen was watching as she made her way towards the darkened hall. She closed her door almost all the way and sat on the bed, waiting.

The electric red of the alarm clock shouted that there were eight minutes to midnight when Karen walked in and shut the door softly. The room was dark, save for the moonlight trying to peek in through the window, but Karen's smile lit up the place like it was daylight. "Sorry it took me so long," she said as she sat down next to the red head. "It was so hard to find a moment to slip away without Jack noticing." She brushed a curl away from Grace's face and studied it for a minute. "What's on your mind, Gracie?" she asked in a loud whisper. "You look preoccupied with something."

Grace looked at Karen, unsure if she should really say what's on her mind, about her past relationships, about how they weren't like that and maybe they should be. But what was throwing her off was their lack of definition. If this was a legitimate relationship, she would have kept all of it to herself. She would have let it run its course, she wouldn't ask questions like that. But this wasn't a relationship, at least it wasn't spelled out that way. So maybe it was okay to go into it without thinking it all the way through.

"Karen," she started softly, "why won't you ever go further with me?"

She didn't need to elaborate; Karen knew exactly what she was getting at. In fact, she had been wondering the same thing. It wasn't as though she didn't want to, every night sleeping so close to her. And she wasn't necessarily waiting for Grace to make the first move; the red head was the one who put all of this into motion in the first place, and Karen wasn't about to push it, asking for another starting point. She took Grace's hand and gave the only explanation she could.

"I didn't think you wanted it. I didn't know what you wanted at all, and to be quite honest, I still don't think I'm one hundred percent sure on the matter. I didn't want to scare you off and lose what we have, whatever you want to call it. I'm not used to feeling so uncertain in my convictions like this."

Grace couldn't help but smile. There was no sense of urgency with Karen. There was no need to go as far as possible in the shortest amount of time. She thought back to that day in the coffeehouse, when she was still getting used to the fact that her connection with Karen had shifted and she couldn't figure out what to do. She thought back to what Karen said. _I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do_. She was certain the men before Karen meant this, but never vocalized it. Grace loved that about her.

She leaned in closer to Karen, stopped before she touched her lips, and parted hers to whisper. "You don't have to be so careful all the time," she said. "Sometimes I like the risk." She saw the grin forming on Karen's lips, felt a hold on her waist start to pull her in. She plunged her fingers into Karen's hair, marveling at how well they got lost in the darkness. A little closer, and Grace could clearly smell the wine she had mixing with the gardenia of Karen's perfume. She was so close to her lips. But then…

Cheers erupting from outside the bedroom door. Grace glanced over at the clock; it had just reached midnight. She looked at Karen and couldn't help but laugh. She heard the woman join in and sighed. "Great timing," she said as she began to pull away. "Should have known not to start something on New Year's Eve." She started to stand up when she felt a tug on her hand.

Karen pulled her in and brushed her lips against Grace's. "Doesn't mean we can't stay here a little while longer. I think I like having you all to myself. I'm not ready to go back out there yet." Grace smiled as she pulled away, settled herself in Karen's arms, and rang in the New Year with a serenity she wouldn't have been able to find at the party.

In the living room, after midnight, Will couldn't help but notice that the door to Grace's bedroom, which had always been left open out of habit, was closed for just a little too long. He started to move towards the hallway, just to check in on Grace, make sure she was okay, before he was called over to the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks, looked at the man beckoning for him, looked back at the hallway. The door was still closed. Grace wasn't around, and come to think of it, he hadn't seen Karen in a long time, either. He knew she had come to the party, probably because she had nothing better to do. He should probably go get Grace. But. If something had been going wrong, she would have tried to find him by now. Right?

"Will!"

He looked over towards the kitchen, gave the guy an acknowledging nod and headed his way. Grace would show up eventually. She always did. She would be fine.


	12. Silver And Gold

_Then_

Once she had a taste of what it could be like, she couldn't rest easy until she had the rest.

It had been three days since New Year's Eve, and because of obligatory prison visits and almost every other reason that could possibly be thrown in the middle of their path, Grace hadn't seen Karen, hadn't had that precious time alone with her, since they sneaked off to Grace's bedroom before midnight. It seemed ridiculous to continue on with their actions after the interrupting cheers bringing on the New Year, and they instead opted for what they knew best: the comfort of one another's arms as the dark of the night surrounded them. And when they finally emerged from the bedroom (Grace first, Karen a few minutes after so as not to arouse suspicion), they acted like nothing happened, like their respite from Will's party was nonexistent. Grace faked a smile, secretly longing for Karen, secretly longing for her bed.

Secretly longing for what should have taken place but couldn't. She would wait; she was really good at waiting. She had put it out there verbally; now it was up to Karen to take it and run with it. And Grace knew she would. It was only a matter of time. But maybe she could speed up the process a bit. Maybe she could help Karen get there, because she knew that they both wanted it. They just needed the right moment. And she thought she had it.

"Give me your hand."

Grace looked at the puzzled look on Karen's face as she said it and couldn't help but laugh. The sound of her voice resonated louder than she expected in the Chelsea coffeehouse that had become their regular haunt. Karen still looked out of place in her Chanel-clad beauty, but Grace absolutely loved it; it was part of Karen's charm, standing out like that in a room as small as this. She placed her hand palm up on the surface of the table, locked eyes with Karen and smiled. "I'm serious. Give me your hand. I want to give you something." She watched as the dark haired woman across the table from her rested her hand on top of her own, felt the softness of her skin relax against her palm. With her other hand, Grace slipped a sliver of cold metal into Karen's weakened grip, and covered it for a moment, taking in that warmth that she had always been attracted to, like a moth to a flame.

When Karen pulled away, she slipped the silver key she was given in between her fingers. "What exactly is this the key to?" she asked with a brightness in her voice.

Grace ran her finger around the rim of her coffee mug as she spoke. "Will has to go to Chicago on business for about a week and a half. He leaves on Sunday. I was thinking maybe we could use a change of scenery, for one thing, since we always seem to end up at your place." She could see Karen's smile out of the corner of her eye, and damn if it wasn't contagious. "And, you know…there's the added bonus of having my apartment all to myself. Jack wouldn't be barging in when Will's gone. I love him, but I know that he won't come by just to see me." She paused for a moment, trying to figure out how she wanted to word this. "I…I want you to stay with me. I don't want either of us to be alone then. I want to be able to wake up with you in the morning. I don't want to have to run away when the sun comes up."

It was true. As much as she wanted to take that step, there was so much more to it than an insatiable carnal desire. She wanted to feel as though this was real. She wanted to feel like someone who was unconcerned with the things that normally held them back. She didn't want the worry that came along with the tryst. Karen never spoke of it, perhaps out of kindness, perhaps out of a desire to forget about it, but Grace could never tell if she really felt it. Whenever they talked, it wasn't about their situation. It wasn't about the circumstances, and for the most part, Grace liked it that way. But there were times when she wished they would take those circumstances seriously, because they weren't meant to be played with; they weren't meant to be mocked. Karen was still married, even though his prison stint made it seem like he wasn't an issue. And then there was that symbol on her left hand.

She didn't take that ring off of her finger when they were together, and it became a constant reminder that in time, he would be back; in time, she would be a wife again, in every sense of the word. It always seemed to detach Grace from the moment, no matter how hard she tried. As much as she wanted to make what she had with Karen feel more real, she knew the reality of that ring would always hover over them, and she couldn't make it go away. She hated what that gold band meant.

Maybe it was better that they didn't talk about it; she was certain that what she had to say would come out too bitter, and ruin it all when she didn't want to quit.

"You want me to live with you for a week and a half?" Karen asked playfully. "Can I ask you something? And I'm being completely serious here." It wasn't a yes. Grace was holding her breath and trying to play it off like she wasn't. Getting a "No" as a response wasn't exactly what she was expecting. It hadn't even crossed her mind in the slightest. She figured they were on the same page.

Wait, Grace. Stop for a moment. Let her speak. Stop your mind from running so fast. Wait to hear what she has to say.

Karen let a small half-smile play on her face. "Why haven't we done this sooner?"

Grace let out a sigh of relief, slid her hand across the table to land on Karen's arm softly. "Because the conditions haven't been right like this before. Trust me, if we had a way, I would have asked you to do this sooner. As soon as Will told me he'd be out of town, I couldn't stop thinking about you being there. We can make it something great, I know it. Of course, if you start to get bored with me, with all of that time we have, you can duck out," she said as a joke.

"Right. Because if I have one complaint about any of this, it's that we spend way too much time together." God, Grace loved to hear Karen's laugh. It was completely unlike anything else she had heard in her lifetime. And if that wasn't enough, the way her eyes lit up so much more than she thought possible while she laughed made it a sight you never wanted to see disappear. "Of course I want to spend my time with you. I can't imagine anything I'd rather do. Why don't you just give me a call when he leaves for his trip, and I'll be right over. I can't wait to be with you." Karen lifted her left hand to brush a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. Grace could see the wedding band in plain sight, almost as if it was taunting her.

And just like that, her smile dropped quicker than you could notice the change.

Karen saw the change in the red head's eyes, her lips, and frowned. "Gracie, what's the matter?" she asked. How could she know what was going on in Grace's mind? How could she know about the ghosts that roam around in her head, haunting every thought, plaguing her with bad associations and bitter connotations? "Did I do something wrong?"

Grace shook her head. "It's nothing. It's stupid. Just, when I see your ring…" she trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Karen was smart enough to figure the rest out on her own. She didn't need to spell it out for her. Karen looked down at her hand, covered the band up with her fingers before placing her hand in her lap. Grace shouldn't have brought it up, she shouldn't have let on, at least right now. She knew this. "Look, just forget about it," she said quickly, trying to repair what she had damaged. "I know you have to wear it, okay? I know that. I need to get over it."

Silence. God, Grace wished she could rewind. She wished she didn't have such a bad poker face when it came to things like this. She looked around at everyone else in the coffeehouse; they were completely oblivious to the scene she was a part of, nose deep in old novels and copies of _The New York Times_. Trying to make their coffee order heard over the espresso machine. They had no idea that she effectively killed any of the good intentions her presentation of the key had. She looked down at her lap, unable to face Karen. She closed her eyes for a moment, only to open them again when she heard something hit the table. She looked at the surface, expecting to find the key.

She found the gold band instead.

"If this is holding you back—not that you're holding anything back," Karen started, "but if it is, then it's gone. I don't have to wear it. Honestly, it feels better when it's not on my finger. I'm not going to wear it around you. I don't want you to feel this bad when you're around me. I can't bear that."

"Karen, I didn't mean for you to do that."

"It wasn't you. Well, it wasn't all you. I just think I need to stop kidding myself. I keep pretending to be this contently married woman, who will always be by her husband's side. And the truth is, I hate visiting Stan in prison. Not just because of the setting, but because when we're forced to be seated across from each other for an hour, I have no idea what to say. When he was home, our conversations usually lasted no more than ten minutes. I don't know what to do. We've lost that connection a long time ago. It's foolish to act like it's still there. Especially when I've found it in someone else."

Grace smiled, kissed Karen's palm. It was amazing how those small gestures were enough to give her the world. She watched as the band was slipped into Karen's pocket, quickly forgotten about, lost in conversation about their impending time together while Will was away. Grace could feel the effects immediately; it was better this way, ringless.

It wasn't as if she didn't think they'd have to face it. But at least they could put it off for a little while longer.


	13. Safety

_Then_

"Are you sure you've got everything?"

He looked at her and laughed. She was standing by the door next to his luggage as if she were the one to go, take off for Chicago and leave Manhattan life behind for nearly two weeks. Her back was to the wall and as she leaned against it, she crossed her arms. Impatience, that's what it was. Anxiousness for him to leave, and he couldn't figure out why. It was never like that before; she was always reluctant to see him go, to have the empty apartment forced on her while he was away. Now, rushing him out the door like this was something he didn't quite understand. "Would you relax?" he said lightly, smiling at her from across the living room. "I've got plenty of time, I don't have to leave right away. What's the rush?"

Grace stood up straight as soon as Will challenged her. She wasn't expecting to be forced to explain herself. "There's no rush. I just wanted to make sure you got to the airport in time, so you won't have to hurry to your flight. That's all." She saw the look on his face and knew she didn't have him convinced. "What?" she asked, and immediately regretted it. She opened up another window for him; it would be easier to climb in and poke around. And she didn't want that. She couldn't have that.

"You've been acting weird lately. I don't know what the reasoning behind it is, but it's not like I can't tell something's been going on. Ever since the New Year's party, or maybe that's just when I started noticing it. I've woken up in the middle of the night a couple of times to find that you're not here. You're your own person, you can do whatever you want, but it's not like you to leave like that without warning."

"Look, if it concerned you, I'd tell you, but it doesn't. Can we please drop it?"

Silence. She didn't mean to be so stern with him; this wasn't how she wanted to leave things before his flight, having to wait a week and a half to make amends for something that probably shouldn't have happened in the first place. She closed her eyes and sighed. What was she doing? This was no way to behave; she was like a child, impatient to get what she wanted, doing anything to try and speed up the process. She told Karen on the phone this morning to come by around six, Will would certainly be out of the apartment by then. But maybe, just maybe, if Will hurried up, she could sneak Karen in a little earlier. And once that thought was in her head, it wouldn't leave, and it was all she wanted. Grace looked at him now and sighed, about to speak. But she didn't get the chance to apologize.

"Are you seeing someone?" he asked. "I mean, that's the only thing that I can come up with. Did you meet someone at the New Year's Eve party? Why haven't you told me about this?"

Damn it. She wasn't surprised that he asked her like that, outright, without any room for misinterpretation. She was surprised that he figured it out, just like that. It came so simply to him, and at times she wanted to be like that, at times she admired that. This wasn't one of those times. This was the complete opposite, and she knew she couldn't run. Grace shrugged, hung her head down. "It was before New Year's. And it's not exactly that I'm seeing someone, it's…I don't even know what it is, to be honest. Maybe that's why I haven't told you." A little bit of a lie, but it couldn't possibly hurt. "I can't pin it down; I was trying to wait until I could." Those false statements, they came so easily. She tried to hide her surprise.

Will went for the couch, made a motion for Grace to join him. She could feel his eyes on her, even when she looked away from him, and she knew that he wouldn't let up until she did what he asked of her. Slowly, she started making her way over to the couch, gently setting herself down beside him, waiting for him to start asking her questions. "When did this start?" he said softly.

"A few months ago. A little bit after Nathan." Well. That wasn't entirely true. There was that night after their first visit to Stan in prison, that night when Karen walked into the library with wine and opened up to Grace, spilling everything onto the floor and refusing to clean it up for appearances. That night when Billie Holiday was singing softly in the background and she tasted Karen's lips and the wine, and fell asleep on the floor next to her. But that made her sound like a worse person than she liked to think herself to be. And she didn't want to vilify herself right away.

"And you love him?" Grace flinched at that, at the sound of that word, _him_, but she was certain Will couldn't tell. His glance had shifted to his lap, he wouldn't have been able to see her. "Or is it too early to tell?"

Well…maybe if she could keep Karen's identity a secret, it wouldn't be so bad to talk things out. Because, if she had to be honest, that overwhelming sense of confusion never quite left her mind, even when her confidence started to shine.

"That's just it. It's not too early, I always have a definite feeling at this point. But we just kind of went into it without setting boundaries, or laying down rules, without explaining what it was we wanted out of this. We act like a couple. People who see us would think that we're a couple. But I don't know if that's how it really is. We've never said anything about love. But I know I'm feeling something, I just can't figure out what it is. Which is why…" Should she even continue? No matter if she thought about it, the words were coming out anyway. "Which is why I was intending on playing house for a little while you were in Chicago."

She looked at Will as he locked eyes and started to smile. "Is that why you wanted me to leave so quickly? You wanted to get a jump start? I'm not your parent, Grace, you don't have to sneak around behind my back. You could have invited him over while I was still getting ready. I wouldn't have minded to meet him."

There he went again. _Him._ It didn't matter how many times he said it; it still made her frown, it still made her want to correct him, although she knew that if she did, everything would come tumbling after it. Even as she spoke about this neutral person, this formless being that had the qualities of Karen but not the name, the actions of Karen but not the gender, she knew that little by little, she was threatening their safety. The more she revealed to Will, the smaller the bubble she and Karen were in became, and she didn't want to see what it looked like when that bubble popped.

"I know," she said, felt the shock of his arm sliding around her shoulders before relaxing against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's not that I didn't think you could handle it." Lie, and such a bold one at that. Opening the door to her lover, and he sees Karen on the other side? He would either laugh in her face and think it was a cruel joke, or he would start in with his critiques of Karen and she would never hear the end of it. Either way, she refused to see that. She refused to let that happen. "But if I let you see it, it becomes real. And the fact that I can't figure it out becomes real. I don't know if I want to deal with that just yet. And who knows, maybe it'll work itself out this week, and all will be well."

Will kissed the crown of her head. It didn't feel the same as when Karen did it. She couldn't put her finger on why, it was the same action, but there was a world of difference, and she could feel it. "Well, I hope it does work itself out. You were so down about Nathan; you deserve to find some happiness, even if it's a little confusing at times." He stood up and walked towards his luggage. "Maybe that's my cue to exit. I can be a little early to the airport," he said with a smile.

"Really?" Grace stood up and followed him. "I don't want to rush you out of here."

"It's fine. I'll see you when you get back. Behave yourself," he joked and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks, Dad," she said with a smug half-smile before saying her goodbyes. She closed the door and waited for a few minutes in silence, until she was absolutely sure that he would be out of the building, and in a cab, driving off to the airport. She wondered if she had betrayed Karen just now; they never spoke about any of this to each other, and she knew that Karen wasn't filling Jack in on any of this (and there was no way she would let Karen know what she had just done). So why was it so easy for her to spill as much as she could to Will? She knew that Will wouldn't be able to help her unless he knew who this other person was (and at this rate, his belief that it was a man that was conflicting her would hold him back further if he ever tried to help her figure everything out), so why couldn't she just reassure him that nothing was wrong?

Oh, come on, Grace. You know why. Because even after all the lies you've already told, none of them compare to that one. It was too big to pretend like it was true.

When she figured enough time had passed, she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone, dialing the number to Karen's home phone so quickly, it surprised her. But she knew that the sooner Karen knocked on that door, the sooner all of her problems would be forgotten. Two rings. Three, four. She heard the generic automated message of Karen's answering machine and sighed. She wasn't expecting to get a machine. He was gone now, he wouldn't see. Where the hell was she? _Leave a message at the sound of the tone_. "Karen? Are you there? Pick up. Karen? Look, he's gone now, he left early. So if you're around, and you can hear this, just come over, okay? I'll be here. Just knock on the door. I swear he's not here. He wouldn't know."

As soon as she hung up the phone, Grace heard a knock on the door. Probably Jack, thinking that he could still catch Will. But as she opened the door and saw who was on the other side, she felt the weight lift off of her shoulders. Karen smiled and crossed her arms. "I couldn't wait. I saw Will hail a cab, but I don't think he saw me. So…is it safe?" she said with a joke in her voice.

The red head watched as Karen walked into the apartment with her bags. Grace kissed her lightly, saw the absence of the wedding band on Karen's left ring finger. She couldn't help but smile. "Of course," she said. Yes, it was safe. Of course it was.

For now.


	14. You May Kiss The Bride

_"Take care, I've been hurt before  
>Too much time spent on closing doors..."<br>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" _

_Now_

Sometimes I wish we had never taken that near two weeks together, for reasons both obvious and obscure that I never told you about, and now probably never will. There would be no reason for me to tell you any of this, especially now that you're up there for everyone to see, reciting those generic vows as if they were the most original and stunning string of words ever created. I've been where you are before, three times. And let me tell you from experience, they're only words. They always get twisted, deformed, eventually, one way or another. It would be easier for me to hear them now if we had never spent that time together, but this isn't a part of the reasons you'll never know about.

The obvious reason was because it opened my eyes to a world I could have lived in, a world I hoped to one day inhabit but knew it wasn't a likely reality. We were living this parallel life during that time, Grace, one that we had never walked into before, and sometimes I don't know if I was fully able to handle it. I thought I could, I swear I could. I was anxious for it, unable to stay in the cold empty penthouse that I was supposed to call home. But when I was getting ready to leave, as I was packing my bag while you watched in silence, unsure of how to approach this ending, I felt the overwhelming sensation that even though I didn't know why, this is where I should always be, and to leave now seemed like a horrible injustice to the both of us. I wanted that week and a half to last a lifetime, and it wasn't fair that it had to be over.

Maybe that's why it slipped out as I walked out the door.

I knew I threw you for a loop with that one, those three little words that can make or break a person. I didn't mean to, you know that that was never my intention during any of it. And honestly, I don't know why I said it out loud. I knew I felt it; even in the confusing and sometimes contradictory way we conducted our relationship (I might as well just call it that now, it always felt like deep down, that's what it was), I felt it and knew it to be true like the most basic and natural instincts with which we're born. But we never put a name to what we created. And while it looked and felt and acted like a normal romantic relationship, it had always refused to put a label on itself, and we never forced the matter. You didn't have to say it back, although it would have sounded so sweet to hear your take on those words, right then and there. I didn't give you any warning. And I was fine with the fact that it didn't come as easily to you as it did to me; we lay down the foundation knowing that you would be hesitant on some level, just by experience.

You eventually did say it back, and while the circumstances may not have been ideal, it sounded sweet. God, Gracie, it sounded as sweet as I always knew it would. And maybe you meant it back then, when you first said it. Maybe it was the truth. I just wish it still was.

The more obscure reason is definitely the selfish one, that goes without saying. But I can't shake the notion that if we had never spent that time together—if I had never woken up in the morning wrapped in your arms, if we had never stayed in bed for hours when work wasn't calling our names, if we had never held hands in the comfort of your apartment or kissed over takeout dinner because neither one of us was the star chef we wanted to be—I could actually begin to repair myself. If I hadn't known the experience, I wouldn't miss it so much. And if I didn't miss it so much, I might have been fine sitting here. You can't miss something you've never had, right? It would be so much easier that way. I'd be able to look you in the eye and not feel the sting in my chest.

I'd be able to close the door on you once and for all.

I've been doing it all my life, closing doors, on everyone and everything. Like mother, like daughter, I guess. I've watched her for the first sixteen years of my life closing every door she could find. The door to the memory of my father closed when I was about eight years old; she thought she had mourned the loss long enough, and it wouldn't help her at all to keep dwelling on it. She closed doors on every man she shared a bed with, every man she shared her heart with, after his death. Sometimes she did it while she was still sharing these things. "It's best to keep your emotions out of it, Kiki," she'd always say to me. I'd try to swallow those words, but they always tasted bitter to me.

That is, until I grew up and experienced it all for myself. Then, in some weird twist of fate that I never expected and almost despised, I was beginning to think that my mother, who had wronged not only herself but so many others in her lifetime, had actually been right about something.

I've closed doors on people you don't know about, relationships I've never explained to you. Maybe we never really had the time to delve into that part of our pasts, but you never asked, and I never pushed it. There was Derek, the man I met when I first came to Manhattan, who took me in and took advantage of me long before I fully realized it. There was Kathryn, the intensely passionate artist who I thought I would spend my life with until it became painfully clear that sex was the only thing we truly had in common. My first husband, although that door was closed mainly because we were both young and stupid and didn't comprehend what we were doing when he put that ring on my finger. The women and men in between, who didn't stick around for very long and didn't much care whether or not I got hurt.

The door's been closed on Stan for a long time, but I guess it doesn't matter so much anymore. I started to shut it that one time, not so long after we first met, when I asked Will for his advice on divorce even though that wasn't his area of expertise as a lawyer. There were times when I opened it up just a crack more, but honestly, it had been slowly shutting until I couldn't take it anymore, and emotionally removed myself completely. And then you came along, I mean really came along. You stayed the night. You were compassionate. You knew I wasn't as cold as I was expected to be. You walked in through the one door that wasn't closed.

And you showed me that that was the one door that could never be closed.

I wish I could be more like you, Gracie. I wish I was able to shut it off as quickly as you did. I wish I was able to move on from this, find someone like you did and believe with all of my heart that this is what should be. But while it looks like nothing affects me on the outside, deep down I'm scrambling for a cure and never finding one. And it's not like I can ask anybody for help. I never told anybody. You never said anything to anyone, as far as I know. The only person who could even potentially help me out is you. And you're out of reach now; you always will be.

I try to close your door, I really do. But every time I push, every time I make the move to slam it shut for good, it flings back open on its own accord, with as much force as I gave it, if not more. I don't think we were really finished when we ended. And I want to go back, I want to see what else was in store for us. But you had other plans. I can move forward—I've been hurt plenty of times before, and I know how it goes—but I can't tell whether or not I'll be able to move on. And even if I do, that door will always be open, taunting me.

Maybe someday I'll be able to put that in the back of my mind, in a dark and cobwebbed corner of it where it will be easy to forget. Maybe. But it's not going to be any time soon.

Your voice speaks so gently now, as you repeat the words that will bind you to Leo for the rest of your life, or at least until one of you gets restless (that's a horrible thing to say, I know. But I've done this three times, Grace. You can believe the best about marriage all you want, but when it comes down to it, someone always gets restless. At least from my experience, this has been the case every time; usually it was the one I was married to who made the cheating move, but there was one occasion where I fell from grace and got caught, effectively ending everything). You speak them as if they're the most fragile things in the world—perhaps they are—and if your inflection is too strong, if your voice is a little too loud, they will shatter. Always so careful. I love that about you.

I wish I could tell you.

God, I wish I could tell you.

Will turns around in his seat after you both have recited your vows, looks me straight in the eye for a moment. I don't understand why, and I know he can tell that he's making me uncomfortable. I give him a look that I hope will make him turn around, but he's not budging. What does he think I'm doing back here? I know he's probably going off of what he sees when he visits you in the office; I know he's used to my snide remarks that I never really mean but say with wholehearted conviction. And there were hushed voices around us, talking about things I couldn't hear and couldn't care less about. So the only logical conclusion is that he thinks I'm being that snarky creature he knows me to be, whispering in Jack's ear during the ceremony when the truth is I couldn't speak right now even if I wanted to.

Because I know what's coming—so does Will, as he quickly turns to face you once again—but even as I hear it, I'm not prepared.

"You may kiss the bride."

I can hear the applause, the murmurs of how happy you look with him, of how you both deserve this. I turn my gaze to my lap and wait for it to end. I can't bear to watch him brush his lips against yours, the same terrain my own have explored. When I finally look up, you're walking towards your family and friends, arm in arm with Leo, officially his wife, all smiles. I can see you looking all around the seats, catching the glances of familiar faces mixed with the ones you have yet to get to know. And then your eyes find mine, like they have so many times before, lingering there for a moment longer than they do with everybody else. The smile that has been fixed on your face this entire time is still there, it doesn't flinch, it doesn't change for me. Your eyes find mine, just like they always used to do. But unlike those other times, I wish I hadn't lifted my gaze from my lap.

Because this moment is the one that kills me the most.


	15. Of Clean Slates And Adrenaline

_Then_

"What?"

Karen looked up at Grace's voice and saw the red head's smile next to her at the dining table. They had white cartons filled with Chinese takeout spread across the wooden surface. She plunged her chopsticks into the container filled with lo mein noodles without breaking eye contact. "What do you mean, what?"

"You're telling me you didn't realize you were laughing?" Karen spread her hand across her mouth, felt how her lips were curled in a wide open smile, and it made Grace laugh. "Seriously, what's on your mind? You were obviously thinking about something. Tell me."

It wasn't so much a loaded request as it was one that required so much explanation. Because that unconscious laugh had different layers, once she thought about it. The situation itself, looking on the surface, would have been enough to satisfy Grace's wishes. Starting with the burning smell and the smoke detector's piercing shrill while Karen was sprawled on Grace's bed with a novel in hand. She jumped at the loud beeping and rushed out of the bedroom to find the red head clearing the air around the smoke detector with an oven mitt. When she turned around and saw Karen standing in the middle of the living room, she huffed. "This is why Will always does the cooking," she said before throwing the oven mitt on the counter.

Karen laughed and walked over to the red head, wrapping her in her arms. "At least you tried. And you know from experience that I wouldn't do much better," she said, pointing out her failed attempt at cooking during their trip to her Vermont cabin with Will and Jack, when she was still getting to know them. She looked at the charred mass on the stove top and tilted her head. "What did this start out as, anyway?"

Grace laughed. "No, it's too embarrassing, let's just forget that this happened. I guess we're resorting to Chinese takeout? I know a hole-in-the-wall place nearby that has the best food you'll ever have. Come on, get your coat, we can figure out what we want when we get there."

"Well…if we're going to a hole-in-the-wall, then this," Karen said as she pulled away, motioning towards her sleek black dress and pumps, "simply will not do. Give me a minute." She hurried down the hallway and back into Grace's bedroom, hearing the red head's questions and how they sounded so light, and shut the door behind her. It was a whim, an impulse, something that she figured would make Grace laugh. And as she was going through the motions, she realized that this was not like her. This was not something she normally did, at least not while she was married to Stan. The days of going out of her way to put a smile on her lover's face were as foreign to her as the gorgeous way Grace made her feel used to be. And yet here she was, going out of her way to perform a simple task just to see those eyes light up in the way she craved.

And she had to admit, she loved it. She didn't think she was that person anymore. But she loved that she was learning more and more about herself through the red head.

"Karen, come on! I'm starving! What are you doing in there?"

She heard Grace's voice, muffled from so far away, and slowly opened the door. When she emerged from the darkness of the hallway, she found the red head bundled up in her coat and scarf, waiting by the door with her hand on the knob. But as soon as she saw Karen, her hand dropped from the cold metal as she let out a laugh of disbelief. Karen smiled, gestured along the frame of her body. "Is this hole-in-the-wall appropriate?" she asked as Grace made her way over to her.

The red head couldn't contain her laughter as she ran her fingers along the fabric of her plain black t-shirt, the denim jeans she honestly forgot about, which were now resting on the body of a woman who probably hadn't looked like this in at least a decade. Well. That's not exactly true. There was that one girl's night they had about four years ago, when Grace rather drunkenly requested that they switch clothes. But to see Karen willingly strip herself from the things that had over the years become part of the character she played for everyone else…Grace didn't know what the right reaction was for this, but she hoped to god that she was giving it. "Look at you, I love it. I think you might have to dress like this for me more often," she said with a smile. "Has anyone else ever seen you this way?"

Karen shook her head. "Not in a very long time. What you see in the office is what everybody else sees all the time. Actually, I think I like this better. But you're the only one who's seen this in…god, I can't even remember how long it's been."

"Well, I'm honored," Grace murmured as she brushed her lips against Karen's. She rested her forehead against the dark-haired woman's and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist. "Why did you pick the black one? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, I see you in the color so much." It was an off-handed remark, something that was meant to pass quickly. Grace didn't put much meaning onto those words. But Karen did.

She could have brushed it off with the fact that it was a simple color. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that it ran deeper than that. Black had always been associated with mourning, with loss. She was always subconsciously drawn to it, but she never put any thought into it, until now. And now, she knew exactly what she was mourning. The demise of her marriage, her trust in her husband. The years she lost with him, the time she would never get back. Always in the dark. Always fading to black. And it didn't fit her time with Grace at all.

"You know what? I don't think I got it right the first time." She rushed back to the bedroom, found a white shirt to replace the one she was wearing and changed. A clean slate, unburdened by mourning. She grabbed her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck and took Grace by the hand. "God, come on, Grace, let's go," she joked. "I'm starving." The red head's lips broke out into a grin and she kissed Karen's palm before walking out the door.

Waiting for the elevator seemed like an eternity. Karen's glance shifted from her feet to the profile view of the red head she had. Grace's eyes were locked on the door of 9A, and Karen knew what she was thinking. If he wasn't out doing who knows what, Jack was on the other side of that door; maybe that explained the heavy silence that suddenly fell upon them. All he had to do was open the door and see them hand in hand, see Karen in jeans instead of the dress and pumps, and put the pieces together. Everybody joked about him a lot, but Karen knew he wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together. She squeezed Grace's hand. "Don't be so worried," she whispered. "He's probably out with one of the three guys whose number he got at that club the other night."

"Jesus…" Grace mumbled. "He gets more action in one night than I got all last year."

She couldn't help it. As the elevator opened to welcome them, Karen wasn't able to contain her laughter. "Poor baby," she said before Grace joined her. God, was the red head stunning when she laughed. If Karen was only allowed to look at this, and nothing but this, for the rest of her life, she would be content. They walked into the elevator, pushed the button for ground level, reveled in their laughter echoing through the chamber. But then Karen heard it. And she silently begged the red head to stop.

"Karen? Is that you?"

It was muffled, but he must have shouted it. Jack's voice coming through the other side of 9A's door. Grace's eyes grew wider when she heard the doorknob turn, the door open, his voice become so much clearer. "Karen? Are you out here?" Grace accidentally let out a small shout as she violently pressed the button for the door to close. At the last second, through the smallest crack of the closing door, she could see Jack trying to get to the elevator before it shut and failing. And just like that, the echoes of their laughter was replaced by their loud sighs of relief.

Karen pulled Grace by the belt loops in her jeans into the back corner of the elevator, felt the red head's body against her own. "Quick thinking," she said before they celebrated their escape in a kiss. Grace buried her face in Karen's hair, and Karen couldn't help but feel like she was seventeen again. This is what it should have felt like the first time. These were the rituals she should have experienced when she was at that age. Sneaking away from those who would look down on what she was doing, narrowly escaping their judgmental eyes. Feeling the thrill of adrenaline that went along with it. And she knew that if it weren't for Grace, she would be home alone, feeling the weight of the mourning black. They made it out of the elevator, walking hand in hand in the dark of night to the Chinese restaurant and back, ate lo mein and sweet and sour chicken out of the containers against their own random conversations. Karen couldn't remember the last time she had a night like this. It was so simple.

Yet so perfect.

Now, faced with Grace's question—that inquiry as to why she was laughing over her Chinese food—Karen shook her head. "It's just funny, the way things work out sometimes." Perhaps it was too simple of a statement, too much of a generalization when something a little more elaborate was required. But it was the only thing she could think of that fit so perfectly. She slid her hand underneath the table, let it land above Grace's knee beside her as she brushed her lips against the red head's. And as she pulled away, as she slowly started to slide her hand up her thigh, she was expecting Grace to flinch, she was expecting Grace to pull away, to tell her to stop, because this was unknown territory to them, and it was unprecedented.

But she didn't. Grace felt Karen's hand on her thigh and knew. She knew that everything she had been waiting for, everything they had been building up to, was finally here. After being too unsure of what Karen wanted the first night she was here, after being timid and resorting to their usual ritual by nightfall, she could take this opportunity, use it to her advantage, and she knew that Karen wouldn't object. There was no reason for her to. With that kind of gesture, a gesture she had never made before, a gesture that was overwhelmingly brilliant, it was obvious what her intentions were.

It would be tonight.


	16. Always

_Then_

_Grace had walked into the bedroom from the shower with a towel wrapped around her body. Her red locks had darkened deeply from the water; Karen had never seen her stripped down like this before, and she had to admit it was enticing. She knew that she was witnessing something that only handful of people before her had seen, and unless Grace was holding something back from her, she was the only woman privileged enough to view such a spectacle. Gorgeous enough to weaken the grip she had on the novel she was reading, letting it fall on the sheets next to her. She wondered if the others that had seen this image before appreciated it. She wondered if they were as grateful for it as she was now. Or maybe they just took advantage of it. Just another woman, they've seen it before. Karen had seen other women like this before, but this was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It made her feel alive. _

_She put on a sly grin and couldn't help but stare. That look in Grace's eyes…she knew exactly what her intentions were. There was no mistaking that look, a look she had given many times back when she truly would have meant it. But she had to ask, if only to keep up appearances._

"_What are you thinking of?"_

The sun came in brightly through the window of Grace's bedroom. The heat from the rays on her legs made Karen want to kick off the sheets, but as she slowly started to open her eyes, she willed herself to stay still, for fear of shattering this silent but beautiful morning after. She almost didn't believe that it happened last night. Granted, her entire history with Grace as of late was filled with things she wasn't expecting, but this was something she never thought would happen, mainly because the red head had never outwardly expressed such a desire for it. She had always assumed that that wasn't what Grace wanted out of what they were doing.

But, as with everything else, the unexpected arrived in a brilliant moment that she wasn't told about but accepted with open arms. And the memories were swimming around her mind so much that if it weren't for her bare skin and her legs entwined with Grace's, she would have thought that it they were part of last night's dream.

_Grace shook her head at Karen's question. No words. They always got in the way, no matter how hard you tried to keep them to the side. Even in the dark, they found their way to the forefront, and it was best not to say anything, for fear of ruining the moment, for fear of putting too much pressure on them or saying something that would put them in a different mood entirely. Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other, moving closer towards Karen on the bed. She had time, she could bail. They hadn't done anything yet. They could keep going like they always have, and nothing would change. Throwing this into the mix could spin them around so hard that they didn't know where they were, and they didn't know how to get back home again._

_But she reached the bed. She slipped the towel off of her body, let it fall to the carpet beside her. And she stood there for a moment, completely still. Maybe to plot out exactly how she wanted to move. Maybe to let Karen take it all in, give her time to object. She wasn't completely sure why she froze like that, but it seemed appropriate, it seemed right. It was almost as if she was daring Karen to make a move, even though she was certain that this wasn't the case._

_Well. Whether or not it was, Karen did it. Slipping her arms around the red head's waist, pulling her towards the bed. Grace grabbed the novel that fell to the wayside and tossed it on the nightstand next to them before Karen plunged her lips into her skin._

Karen had her back turned towards Grace, but if she listened closely, she could hear the red head's sleep-heavy breathing; if she concentrated hard enough, she could feel the warmth that radiated from her body. She couldn't help but crack a smile, thinking of many different meanings and implications came along with silence. It was so soft now, the way that this morning's silence covered them like a blanket. It let them rest, it brushed up against them gently so as not to be disturbing, but rather a simple reminder that it was there, and it wasn't going to harm them. She couldn't remember the last time she woke up to this; the morning silence she was used to was always cold and harsh, that nagging voice that told her that even though there was another body lying beside her, she was, and likely always would be, alone.

And then there was the silence she experienced last night. Something that she hadn't felt the weight of in a long time, if ever. It was hard for her to pinpoint a time in her life when that kind of silence took over. It was heavy, but in a way that she welcomed, overwhelming in a way that was incredibly exciting. And it wouldn't let up, even if she tried to plead with it, and at that moment, she didn't want to try. It was a silence that let them get away with anything, a silence that turned a blind eye to something that, in the eyes of others, may be considered immoral. It liberated them.

Oh, did it liberate them.

_She couldn't help but watch what was being done to her, the way Grace unbuttoned her jeans, slid them slowly off of her legs and tossing them on the floor. The way her hands made contact with Karen's skin as she slipped the shirt over her head. It was something she had never thought to want before now. They were bare, open. They hid nothing now, and wanted everything. Karen felt the way Grace's skin slid along hers in a way that was uncertain of her actions, uncertain of what to do, and she knew that if there was a time to stop tiptoeing around the subject, it would be now._

_Karen lay Grace down on the bed and started planting a trail of kisses from her neck to her breastbone, coming to rest for a while on the red head's stomach. God, the way Grace sighed at Karen's touch. The way she moved to fit perfectly with Karen's skin. It was almost as if the red head had been anticipating it all along, that she was waiting for this moment for months, and maybe she had. Maybe those sighs were a reaction to the combination of Karen's touch and the rewards of waiting. Whatever it was, Karen loved it. She loved that it was her fingers eliciting those sighs, she loved that Grace was unafraid to let go now that they were the only two people in the apartment. She loved the daring person Grace became at night. Karen travelled further down Grace's body. And then…"Wait."_

_Karen looked up at Grace's small voice. Damn. She really had overestimated the red head's desires. She propped herself on her elbows, hovering over Grace's body, coming to meet her at eye level. "I'm sorry," she started. "I didn't mean to make you…"_

"_No, it's not that," Grace said quickly. "It's definitely not that. I just…god, this is so stupid, forget it."_

"_No. Gracie, what is it?"_

_The red head looked into Karen's eyes with all the sincerity in the world. "Will…will you be gentle with me?"_

_Karen smiled at the request, partly out of relief. Out of all the things that Grace could have said to her at that moment, she wasn't thinking it would be something along those lines, and she welcomed it wholeheartedly. She brushed a lock of Grace's hair behind her ear. "Of course," she murmured. "You can trust me. I wouldn't have it any other way."_

Karen heard a rustling of the sheets from the other side of the bed, and she couldn't help but sigh peacefully at the fact that she wasn't alone. Without a word, Grace turned in her side of the bed, and molded herself to Karen, her chest to Karen's back. In an instant, they were brought back to last night, to the way they held each other after they made love, to the way Grace was smiling even as she fell asleep. She planted a kiss on Karen's shoulder, let out a soft giggle as her dark hair tickled her cheek. "Are you awake?" she whispered into Karen's ear. And when she heard a murmured confirmation, she asked, "Can you feel it?"

Karen slipped her hand over Grace's on her waist. "Can I feel what?" she said just as softly, not wanting to disrupt the serenity that surrounded them. Because, if she had to be honest, she never felt this with Stan before, and she wanted to be in the moment as long as she possibly could before it disappeared and she was only left with the memory.

"My heart. It's up against your back if I press my chest to you like this. Can you feel it?"

Such a simple question, and it made Karen want to cry. She had only been at the Riverside Drive apartment for a couple of days, but already she has had more than her fair share of simplicity in their actions. And after years of dealing with the extravagant, after years of pretending like you had to go big or go home, it was still odd to see that happiness can come in the smallest gestures.

"Always." A simple question deserved a simple answer. But in Karen's mind, in her heart, it wasn't simple. And maybe Grace took her answer for surface value, but in time, she hoped that Grace realized all the different meanings that Karen tacked on to it.

Later, she would realize that it wasn't such a good thing. Later, she would realize that this tender and fleeting moment between them would cause a scar on her heart that would always make itself known. But now, there was only one thing she could think about: that even if, for some crazy reason, because of some crazy twist of fate, they ended up parting ways, Karen would always feel Grace's heart.

Always.


	17. Roots

_Then_

"You're insane for wanting to walk the park like this. You know that, right? It's freezing outside, Gracie."

"Well…you're indulging me. So who's the insane one?"

Karen looked at the red head's grin and quit it with a kiss as Grace slipped the lit cigarette out of Karen's fingers and into her own. Karen had lit it as soon as they exited Grace's building, heading towards Riverside Park at the red head's request, _Just to get out of the house, Karen, for a little while_. Karen watched in disbelief as Grace took a drag on the lipstick-stained end of the cigarette. "What?" Grace asked as she let a cloud of smoke escape her lips and handed the cigarette back to her. "I'm not as innocent as you think I am," she joked. "I smoked for a while in college, after the whole Will thing. I don't know, maybe it was some childish way of acting out, trying to become a different person and failing miserably. The only thing I really got out of that time in my life was that I built up a tolerance for those things."

"Well, look at you, you badass rebel," Karen said with a smile as they reached the entrance of the park. She took one final drag off of the cigarette before throwing it down on the concrete and pressing the heel of her black pump into the ground to stub it out. She was back in her normal garb—if you can call it "normal"; she never really felt particularly normal when she was wearing it, which explained a lot of the latter part of her life. It was Grace's idea, and like so much lately, Grace's wish was her command. She had reached for her coat in a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater that was part of the self-dubbed "bohemian shopping spree" Grace helped her with the other day so she wouldn't have to keep digging through the red head's closet. But then Grace stopped her, took a hold of her wrists and pulled her away from the coat rack. "I like the idea that this," she said, sliding her hands down the fabric on Karen's body, "is something that only I get to see."

And that shine in her eyes as she said that…Karen's just couldn't say no to her. Not that she ever planned to, or ever wanted to, for that matter.

The January chill pushed the majority of Upper West Side New Yorkers out of Riverside Park, opting for a seat by their fireplaces, or curled up in bed with the one they love. But with Grace's gloved hand in hers, Karen led them against the force of the cold and walked slowly, watching their breath become almost as visible as the clouds of cigarette smoke that they just let escape from their lips. She felt Grace's glove brush her cheek. "The cold's already gotten to you," she said with a soft giggle in her voice. "Your cheeks are red."

"I don't respond well to the cold, I guess," Karen said, taking in the naked trees against the steel sky. She used to think the color scheme of winter matched everything about her perfectly: the white, the grey, how monochromatic everything is. Almost no variety, every day screaming for just a little bit of color and never getting it. But now, a splash of red against the plain background made all the difference.

Grace wrapped her arms around Karen's waist, pressed her body up against the walking figure in her grasp. "Then maybe I should stick close to you to keep you warm," she murmured into Karen's ear before planting a small, almost fleeting kiss on her temple. She knew that Karen wouldn't have done this for anyone else, braving the chill for a walk in the park. Had it been Jack to make the request, she knew that Karen would have laughed in his face, waiting for him to tell her she was joking. But she had different rules with Grace. They worked in a different way; even if they didn't define themselves, underneath it all, they knew this to be true.

And Karen couldn't possibly put up a fight. So she relaxed against Grace's body, wandered aimlessly around the park. The way the red head had asked her to come out today had been sweet and coaxing, but she would have gone just as easily without it. There was something thrilling in their trysts hitting public air, even if there weren't a lot of people there to witness it. They could get away with it if they tried hard enough; it didn't really matter to people outside of their little clique. It was still an unusual feeling to try and wrap her head around this fact, but she had to admit, she got off on it.

"Tell me something that the others don't know."

It was a request that took Karen aback, not because it was a strange thing to ask about—if anything, it was completely natural—but because it meant going back to the past, a place she didn't normally frequent. In all honesty, once she had met Will and Grace and Jack, it became harder and harder to remember a time when they weren't in her life. She had only known them for four years, but in that time, she let more of herself show with them than with any of the people that came along with the circle she was wedged into when she married Stan (that wasn't saying a lot—she had that wall up and never really destroyed it all the way for anyone except Grace—but at least it had been a start). To be asked about her sense of self during a time she wasn't used to talking about was something that threw her off. "What do you want to know?" she asked, hoping to buy time.

"Remember that first time we went to the coffeehouse in Chelsea? You told me that that was closer to your scene before you met Stan. I want to know what you were like back then. You're like this being that just appeared at my door four years ago. I don't know anything about who you were, or what led you to who you are."

Karen laughed. "I wasn't all that interesting. I lived in the East Village in my twenties, had a string of bohemian beaus who lived in studio apartments that should have been condemned, and could barely take care of themselves. I used to bartend downtown to make ends meet, had a lot of late nights. It wasn't the greatest situation in the world, but at least I was doing something with my life, you know? I worked, I earned everything I had." She could see Grace start to open her mouth and was quick to speak again to stop her. "I know I'm technically your assistant, but god, Grace, if you consider that work, you really need to rework your definition of it."

"So how did you get here?"

"I was walking around MoMA one day. I always loved to walk around that place, still do. Caught the eye of a suit that wouldn't let up; honestly, I don't know what he saw in me. But he tried anything to strike up a conversation, trying to talk about pieces he didn't know the first thing about, and I know that he mistook my laughter for enthusiasm rather than the things he got wrong. But he was charming, so I gave him my number. He became my first husband. And I started to detach myself from the East Village and everything that went along with it. Until I got to Stan, and I became a different person entirely. Sometimes I think it was the wrong decision."

Grace stopped in her tracks for a moment. She looked at Karen, locked eyes, just to study her for a moment. And then she cracked a smile, so slight that Karen thought she imagined it at first. "For what it's worth," the red head said softly, "if all of that stuff brought you to my door, if all of it brought you to this moment that I get to share with you, I think it turned out to be a good one." She kissed the red of Karen's cheek. "You can't change the root of who you are, Karen. I think you've proven that this week. So you get a little lost along the way, but you find your way back eventually. And I'll do whatever I can to help lead you there."

There it was. In the midst of all the ambiguity and the lack of conviction concerning the both of them in the grand scheme of things, something like that slips through the cracks. And it was then that Karen knew where the red head's heart lies. It was moments like this that made everything worth it. She took Grace's face in her hands, pressed her lips against the red head's. They stood there for a moment, almost as if they were frozen, forcing the few New Yorkers who were in the park to walk around them. They were a spectacle, something that you couldn't help but see.

A few months ago, it would have scared them. Funny how you can grow so much in such a short amount of time.

When she pulled away, Karen let a smirk play across her lips. "Hold on, this isn't fair," she said with a laugh. "We have to even it out now. You need to tell me something that the others don't know."

Grace pursed her lips and closed her eyes. "Wait, I've got something," she said softly. And then, something so understated that Karen didn't know whether to take it seriously or realize it was a joke and wait for the real confession. "You're not my first." Karen wasn't so much surprised by the fact that she wasn't the first woman Grace had been with; it was the fact that, for whatever reason, Karen had always been under the impression that there was never a doubt in the red head's mind about where her heart leaned until now. Just look at the parade of boyfriends that had walked in and out her door: Danny, Josh, Ben, Nathan, the ones who put in a small stint in between. "Yeah, that cigarette smoking, pseudo-rebel phase after Will in college? It came along with a blonde English major. It was a disaster, something I don't like to talk about. And it was right after Will came out and we broke up, so I knew he was going to think it was my strange way of rebounding. Which I guess it was, but…" she trailed off, knowing she had said enough.

"So why exactly did your apparently secretive Sapphic tendencies lead you to pick me?" Karen weaved her fingers with Grace's, felt the red head's grip get stronger on her skin.

The red head shrugged. "Because when I touched your skin, I felt something I've only ever felt once or twice before. Because I know you, or at least I know as much as you want me to. Because I trust you." She hesitated for a moment, not sure if she should continue. But she saw the look in Karen's eyes, that glow that could overpower the strongest negativity. And she realized that if she continued, if she said what was on the tip of her tongue, it would be okay. She would be safe. "Because…because I know that you're not going to hurt me."

Karen smiled as Grace buried her face into the fabric of Karen's coat. "You know I wouldn't dream of it." She looked back towards the entrance of the park. "Why don't we get out of the cold for a little while?" Grace met her eyes. God, she was always entranced by them. "Let's go to Chelsea." They walked out of the park onto the street. But as she tried to hail a cab, Grace pulled her back.

"Wait. We should go back to the apartment first. So you can change back into what you were wearing." The red head pulled a smile. "I don't have to be so selfish all the time. You should get back to your roots."

Karen laughed as they made their way to Grace's building. It made total sense to her. Grace had been the one to give her an opportunity to escape her mundane life for a few hours a day four years ago. It was only natural that she would give Karen the opportunity to be the woman she always was.

Coming out of hiding felt so good.


	18. The Realization

_Then_

"I want to take you somewhere stunning. I want to spoil you for a night. It's the least I can do."

Karen waited by the front door of the apartment after her announcement. She knew she had taken Grace by surprise; after only a week together, they had already fallen into a routine filled with downtown coffeehouses and casual restaurants, things that would seem completely out of the ordinary in her life with Stan but felt entirely natural now. And while she loved every minute of it, she had to admit that the most miniscule part of her inside missed the lavish restaurants and the spectacle of it all. Even if her life with Stanley Walker had become increasingly more painful in various ways, she actually enjoyed those dinners out. It took her mind off of the oppression in the penthouse she wished she didn't have to call home.

She heard the click of high heels against the hardwood floor of the hallway become louder and louder, until Grace emerged from her bedroom to the living room. She twirled around for Karen to see, modeled the dress that hugged her curves perfectly. The emerald of the fabric sparked her hair into a brighter flame, something Karen had never seen before and found it so easy to be entranced by. Karen wanted to say something desperately—anything to let Grace know how gorgeous she looked tonight—but even as the words formed at her lips, even as she felt them on her tongue, her voice was too thin to make a sound. Grace laughed and made her way towards Karen, wrapped her arms around her neck. "I take it that the speechlessness is a good sign. Mission accomplished." She smirked as Karen brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear, graced her cheek with her fingers. "Well," the red head murmured, "are we going to stand by the front door all night, or are we going out to dinner? Take me to your world," she joked, watching as Karen's eyes danced around trying to get a full glimpse of the woman in front of her. "Show me things I've never seen before."

When the cab slowed to a stop in front of the restaurant Karen had chosen, Grace couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. She vaguely knew what she was getting herself into; she realized the status of most of the people who were dining inside, she knew how she was supposed to look, how she was supposed to act. But to emerge from the yellow car onto the street, to look at it and know that you're supposed to walk in there and act like it's no big deal, was something that she couldn't quite grasp yet. This wasn't her. She wasn't opposed to something a little classier than takeout, but she had always floated in the middle, not quite at the level Karen was at. Karen noticed the red head's hesitation and grabbed her hand, led her slowly towards the front door. "It's just dinner," she said as she felt Grace's grip grow stronger. "It'll be fine."

At the sight of her, Karen saw the host put on a smile she knew was fake—it was transparent, this entire scene, but at least she knew how to navigate it—and almost laughed in his face as he spoke with an enthusiasm she had never felt before, and was pretty sure he had never genuinely felt either. "Shall I take you to your usual table, Mrs. Walker?" he asked her.

She wanted to shudder at the sound of that name. _Mrs. Walker_. It didn't match who she thought herself to be now. It didn't go with Chelsea coffeehouses and walks in Riverside Park, with red hair brushing her skin and the way Grace sighed when they made love. He couldn't have known; even if he had an inkling, he had been around people like her long enough to pretend like he didn't. She couldn't look him in the eye, focused her glance down where she had let go of Grace's hand when they walked in. "Only if it's available," she said quickly.

"For you? It's always available." Well. Maybe there are some perks that come along with the name.

As they sat down, Karen watched Grace's eyes darting from one side of the room to another. The red head was acting like she had just sneaked into someplace that was off limits to her. All she had to do was pretend, to act like this was a place she frequented and she would be fine. In fact, she was fine now; nobody's eyes were on her except Karen's. She tried to quell the red head's anxiety. "God," she said quietly as she leaned in, making sure that Grace was the only one who could hear, "there are so many suppressed secrets in here that I'm surprised there's room to breathe."

"Like what?"

"You mean besides us?" Karen quipped with a smile. She saw the small smirk on the red head's lips and knew she was getting somewhere. "Well…" she looked to the right of their table, her eyes landing on one of Stan's colleagues sharing a table with a buxom blonde, fingers entwined and whispers escaping their lips. "You see that couple over there? He works right alongside Stan. I've met his wife a few times; she's only bearable for about five minutes. Except…that's not his wife across the table from him. He likes to think he's being discreet. Too bad, he probably knows half the people in this restaurant." Karen turned her glance to the other side. "Oh, and over here, two tables down, the woman with the long black hair? That's her husband across from her. But on more than one occasion, she got a little tipsy at one of our parties and attempted to make a pass at me."

Grace, wide-eyed, turned to stare at the woman without the slightest hint of subtlety. "Her? Really? God, no wonder she looks bored to death over there." She fixed her gaze on Karen and studied her for a moment. "So if you know about all of this stuff, why don't you ever say anything? Especially after everything they've put you through, essentially pretending like you don't exist ever since Stan went away."

"If you don't speak about it, it never happened. That's how it works, at least in that circle. I'd be just like them if I started spreading all of that. I don't think I'd be able to handle it if I stooped down to their level."

"You're better than they are, even if you did decide to let it all spill." They locked eyes for a moment, stayed there as if it was the only logical thing to do. Grace couldn't believe that this had been a part of Karen's life, part of what she had never gotten to see until now. If you had asked her when she first met the woman—if you had asked her just before Stanley Walker's arrest—she might have thought this scene to embody who she was. But Grace had seen her against the moonlight. Grace had heard her speak softly and watched her slip on a pair of jeans and smile. It was at that moment the red head realized how constricted Karen must have been all these years. God, it must have been suffocating. And she wondered how Karen was still standing, because she could barely take it now, and they had only been in this place for a few minutes. "I feel like I'm being judged," she finally told Karen after a minute of silence. "I can feel their eyes on me even though they're not even paying attention to me. It's a weird feeling. I don't know how you do it."

Karen froze for a moment. How did she not see it before? All the times before when Stan would take her to restaurants like this, she loved it. It got her out of the penthouse, it put them in a different atmosphere. But mainly, she was beginning to realize, she loved it because these dinners always required little interaction with her husband. He used this time to network, to converse with those he knew, and it gave her time to herself. But now that she didn't have him, now that she was seated across from Grace, she could feel what the red head felt. The eyes, the judgment. She always knew it was there, but she could always be distracted. She regretted ever bringing Grace to a place like this. "I made a mistake," she said quietly. "This isn't where we should be. I hate it. Why don't we get out of here? I want the exact opposite of this."

Grace's eyes lit up. "Be careful what you say," she said slyly. "I've got just the place if you're up for it."

Karen put her hand over the red head's. "Let's go," she murmured, and they rushed outside to hail a cab. She looked through the window of the back seat as they headed downtown, trying to figure out what Grace had in mind. That is, until the red head leaned in against Karen, rested her head on her shoulder in silence. Karen fixed her eyes on the body she wrapped her arms around, and wanted to cry with the realization that she finally knew. She knew. It had rolled around in her mind for months, but she wasn't sure she should say it out loud, or even if she wanted to. They never spoke of rules, but she was certain that this would be against them. But in this moment, with Grace in her arms speeding away from the live she used to live, the life she didn't want anymore, the life that the red head was saving her from, it was in the forefront of her mind, screaming of its existence. And she knew she had to succumb.

The cab slowed to the sound of Grace giggling. Karen furrowed her brow and put on a confused smile before looking out the window. The car had stopped in front of a Gray's Papaya, and she couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Really? This is your plan?" she said in between bouts of trying to catch her breath.

"Hey, you said you wanted the complete opposite of where we were. Cheap hot dogs wrapped in tin foil seemed appropriate." Grace took Karen's hand and led her outside of the cab, the fabrics of their dresses brushing up against each other as they walked into the place. They looked completely out of place as they ordered, as they found a free place at the stand-up bar by the window to eat and gaze out at the city. But this…this felt right. This felt like second nature. She wanted to hate Stan for keeping her so far away from this state, but she knew it wasn't his fault. She was the one responsible; she willingly let this happen. But she was making up for it. She was here. She made the realization. She knew.

"What?" Grace said sweetly. Karen hadn't realized she was staring and started to blush. She turned her glance away from the red head and shifted it to the food that was in front of her.

"Nothing. You're just beautiful tonight. Every night." She lifted up her hot dog in acknowledgement. "Thank you for this. It's perfect." Grace smiled and took a bite of her food. She might not have a clue. But Karen knew.

She had fallen for Grace, her heart in her hands, ready for the red head to take it. And if she had to be honest, she didn't want to get back up again.


	19. A Slip Of The Tongue

_Then_

She didn't want to wake up. She didn't want to fall asleep the night before either—that childish notion that if you never go to bed, the new day won't dawn and you could stay in this state forever—but that inevitably failed. Because she knew what the sun would bring with it when it rose in the sky. And she didn't want to acknowledge it, she didn't want to act like it existed. She was perfectly content in their little bubble, the world they concocted for their own pleasure, for their own sanity. But time never freezes, everything is fluid. And for once in her life, Karen wasn't wishing that the minutes would go by just a little bit faster.

Although maybe if she lay still like this, maybe if she didn't move a muscle, it would be close enough. Maybe if she stayed on her side, feigning sleep, staring at the wall like this and feeling the weight of Grace's body on the other side of the mattress, it would be like the world just stopped, and they could stay in this moment for as long as they wanted. It had worked thus far; the sun was shining on them and wouldn't budge, and save for Grace's breathing, the silence surrounded them, made them stick in the same position like amber. But just like that, any hope for the implausible had been shattered with the voice she couldn't get enough of, but hoped wouldn't crack the fantasy.

"Will gets in around three." She heard it coming softly from the other side of the bed, and she turned to find Grace lying on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Karen hadn't even made a sound; how could the red head have known she was awake? Maybe it wasn't something that Grace had intended to say out loud; just a realization that this part of her time with Karen was coming to an end, something that she had to say to herself for it to become a reality. Karen looked at the alarm clock on Grace's nightstand and saw that it was nearing noon.

She slid her hand along Grace's stomach. "I can leave early if you want me to. If you're worried that I might be cutting it too close by leaving when I said I would."

Grace's gaze didn't leave the pale white of the ceiling. "What does this mean now?" she asked with a hint of weariness, as if Karen hadn't said anything. "What if we can't go back to the way it was after this? Are you really going to tell me that you're going to be okay with returning to the penthouse?"

"Gracie, we don't have a choice. Unless you want to fill Will and Jack in on everything, and subject us to whatever ridicule they're bound to sling around, we have to go back to the way things were. I know it's not going to be easy. But it's not like it's impossible."

Karen watched as the red head cracked a small smile. There was no denying the sadness she kept between her lips, but Karen knew better than to call attention to it now. "You know, every time I came by the penthouse in the middle of the night, I always got a little thrill out of it. Trying to bypass Will while he was in his bedroom, making sure the floorboards didn't creak underneath my feet, taking nearly a full minute to close the front door. It made me feel like a kid, knowing that I had successfully become invisible for just a few moments. And knowing that you were on the other end of the journey…" she trailed off, fell silent for a second, but Karen knew what she was getting at.

"Well, see?" she said as she twirled one of Grace's curls around her finger. "It wasn't so bad before, we can do it again. We can keep that thrill, it'll be okay."

"But here's the thing. Now that you're here, now that you've been here all this time, and I've gotten to wake up next to you, and I didn't have to worry about leaving before Will wakes up or how long I've been out so I don't warrant any suspicion…I'd take this over that quick thrill. And the thought of going back to it, to pretending like this never happened or like I never knew what it meant to say good morning to you when your eyes are still heavy from sleep, just…it…" She didn't know how to finish, couldn't begin to find the right words, and she ended flat. "It just makes me sad."

Karen lay on her back and sighed. She got it. Of course she got it. How could she not understand? She was too caught up in the flash of the key and the romantic notion of finding out what it's like to lead a life with someone who made you smile to realize that the end would be inevitable—at least for this chapter of their time together—and it would be something to prepare for, something that she had to brace herself against. She always put it off, and damn her reasoning: thinking about it, preparing for it, would only distract her from the brilliance that was going on in front of her, and she didn't want to miss what was in front of her. But now, she had no idea where to go next.

"What do we do now?" she asked the red head.

Grace took Karen's hand against the sheets of her bed. She still couldn't get over how soft that touch was, how she always felt as though she couldn't hold on too tightly for fear of breaking something fragile. "I think maybe you should start packing," she said quietly. "And then I'll come by the penthouse when Will goes to bed." She propped herself up on her free elbow, and studied Karen for a moment. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't want that to sound like I want you out. I just don't know what else to do."

Karen kissed the palm of Grace's hand. "I know, honey. I know. Maybe we'll figure it out when I see you tonight. I don't want you to worry." Reluctantly, she got out of bed and put on some fresh clothing, reached under the bed for her suitcase and put on a smile. Because she knew the one thing that would make this day worse would be acting like she wasn't okay.

* * *

><p>Darkness. Too dark, even for the night; it was always so bright in the place she had inhabited before, but she knew that even if she opened the curtains, if she tried to let the sun in to penetrate these black corners, it wouldn't make much of a difference. It felt colder than usual, to the point where she felt a shiver through her spine. It was as close to a slap in the face as she could feel in this penthouse. Karen looked at her bags by the door—she had set them down there when she first walked in, before pacing around the empty house, unsure of what to do with herself—and left them there to be dealt with later.<p>

She wanted to call Riverside almost as soon as she walked in the door—not her door, she could never call it her door; nothing in this place truly felt like hers. Karen wasn't quite sure what that said about her, wanting to reach for the phone that quickly after she left the apartment. She wasn't even sure if it was a good idea to begin with, dialing that number, making Grace steal away to her bedroom for privacy. After the way she left things. She didn't mean to spring it on Grace like that. And even though she certainly wasn't expecting a response, given the way in which she let it spill, it still stung a little bit when she didn't get one.

They had been silent while Karen was packing, unsure of what to say, knowing that there probably wasn't anything they could talk about that would make it better. But when every trace of her had vanished from Grace's bedroom, from the apartment itself, and she was at the door with her hand on the knob, getting ready to go back to the cold place she was forced to call home, she felt the overwhelming desire to at least say something, to end this experience with words, any words at all. She brushed her lips against Grace's like it would be the last time, and as she pulled away, she heard it coming from her lips.

"I love you."

And in that moment, she wished she could have taken it back. Wide-eyed, she didn't even notice Grace's reaction, if she had one at all, and she flung the door open and rushed out. When she closed it, the red head didn't come after her, but she couldn't breathe that sigh of relief until the elevator doors closed her into that small space and sent her down to the lobby. That wasn't at all how she wanted to say it. She didn't even want to say it, at least not now, not when they haven't talked about where they are, what they should or shouldn't be doing. She knew she crossed a line. But she couldn't help herself.

And as she paced the floors of the penthouse, thinking about the phone, feeling a magnetic pull towards the phone, she resisted with all she had, because she could not bear to think about what Grace might say.

It wasn't that she didn't think the red head felt something for her. They wouldn't be in the middle of all of this if she didn't; she knew that she wasn't a plaything to Grace, she knew that this wasn't just for fun. But she didn't want to be the one to say it first, if at all. For the life of her, Karen couldn't shake the feeling that she was pushing Grace to do something. Maybe she was a little too enthusiastic, maybe she wanted to give the red head things too willingly. Maybe she should back off. But every time she had these thoughts, Grace did something spectacular to make her think that she was wrong about the situation all along. The red head would pull a stunt like Gray's Papaya, bringing her down to earth like she always wanted.

Maybe she should stop overthinking everything. But she didn't give enough thought to the words she wanted to end their week with, and look where that got her.

Karen was in the library late at night, brandy in hand with a fire burning in the fireplace when she heard rustling downstairs, footsteps walking up the stairs and coming closer until the red flames of Grace's hair became visible in the doorway. Grace put on a smile and walked towards Karen, planting a kiss on her cheek before she spoke.

"I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here. Will wouldn't stop talking about his time in Chicago, even though he said he was tired from the trip. I didn't want to keep you waiting."

She didn't mention Karen's slip of the tongue. She acted like she didn't hear it, and maybe she didn't; Karen had said it softly, her voice more uncertain of the action than her mind apparently was. Grace sat down next to Karen on the couch and curled up in her arms like it was second nature, and Karen thought for a moment that she was given a reprieve. If she didn't mention it, it didn't exist. And looking at the red head in her arms, Karen was willing to play along, if only to save what they had now. It was only a matter of pretending.

It didn't happen.


	20. Long Enough

_Then_

God, she hoped that he didn't notice the way she gasped. It was small, almost like a hiccup that she could all but suppress, but it was still there, and he was still only a few feet away. She wondered why she was only concerned about Will, when Jack was on the other side of the table, in full conversation with Karen, clearly able to pay better attention to her than Will could at the kitchen. Until she realized that anything she did, Jack would probably be oblivious to, and since Will knew her better than anybody, he would analyze, break down everything until he knew exactly what was running through her mind. But he said nothing.

He didn't seem to notice Grace's reaction to Karen's hand sliding up her thigh, coming to rest against the denim of her jeans, her fingers still moving around on the red head's body.

"What are you doing?" she said under her breath. If Karen had heard her, she didn't acknowledge it, and when Grace has time to look back on it, she will realize how grateful she is for the fact that attention wasn't drawn to her statement. Because in an instant, she felt that thrill that she got out of sneaking out of the apartment while Will was asleep, that thrill that came from knowing something, feeling something, that no one else knew. The heat of Karen's skin was intoxicating, and it was all for her. Only for her.

Will came back to the dining room table with an open bottle of wine and poured Merlot into Grace's and Karen's glasses. "So I figure Karen can stay at your place tonight," he said to Jack as he poured the wine, "and then we can just leave for Shelter Island. All those stiff personalities in one place, sipping on their martinis and doing a horrible job of suppressing their pettiness. Can't wait."

"Hey, nobody forced you to say yes when I asked you to come along with me." Karen said it with a smile in her voice, but Grace couldn't tell if that smile was in response to Will, or because she felt the red head twitch under her palm as she started to move her hand a little more. How could the guys not realize what was going on? Karen's hand had been under the table for a while now; it had to look suspicious. Right? She was waiting for someone to call them out, her eyes darting from Jack to Will before they landed on the woman sitting next to her. Karen was so calm, that perfect poker face, letting nothing show.

Grace wished she could be more like her. But more than that, she wished she could be alone with Karen right now.

That hand was dangerously close, and Karen knew it; she had to. And Grace knew that it was intended to be like that, although she couldn't for the life of her figure out why Karen wanted to do this in public. Whatever the reasons, it worked like a charm on the red head. It always did; the only difference is that when they were alone, Grace could actually vocalize it. But now, she took a deep breath and, feeling Will's eyes on her, tried to smile in the hopes that he wouldn't ask questions. "So what? I'm going to be stuck on the couch in front of the TV this year for Valentine's Day? No fair."

"Grace, believe me, I'd much rather do nothing all day tomorrow, but I don't want to leave Karen alone." The red head could feel Karen's hand freeze when he said that; in spite of all of the harsh words the two of them flung around over the years, there was still something there that compelled Will to stick by Karen's side when she needed it. It was at that moment that Grace knew what Karen was thinking, because she was thinking it, too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to fill Will in on what was going on. Maybe he could be an ally. Maybe if they sat him down and made him realize how the time they spent together was in no way a game, or something trivial, he would understand. It wasn't as though they would ever tell him, or at least not in the near future, but it was always an option.

Something that went through Karen's mind that hadn't gone through Grace's in that train of thought: You can't choose the one you love. You, of all people, should know that, Will.

"Speaking of," Karen said, trying to break the silence that was bound to build up, trying to break the train of thought that could incriminate her, "I think I'm going to go back to your apartment, Jackie. Will and I have an early day ahead of us." When she stood up, when her hand slid from Grace's thigh, the red head felt the cold, missed that heat more than anything. And when Will cleared the table and busied himself in the kitchen, and when Jack made his way to the front door ready to escort Karen across the hall, Grace grabbed her lover by the wrist and stood up.

"I want to see you tonight," she whispered huskily. Karen nodded. And Grace watched her leave with Jack.

* * *

><p>She never got to do this, and it made her smile thinking of how she would finally know what Grace was talking about all this time. She would get to experience the thrill, she would be able to understand.<p>

It was why she insisted on trying to find comfort in sleeping on Jack's couch. Karen knew that if she took his bed, there would be no way to get around him in the living room without him being woken up by the sound, no matter how soft. And Jack knew not to cross her. So when she planted herself on the couch that night, he sighed and brought her some spare blankets and a pillow. And now, eyes wide open, Karen waited until she was sure that he was sound asleep.

She thought she heard a light snore coming from the bed. And she knew that she was safe.

Across the living room floor, she turned her back to the door and walked backwards, her eyes towards Jack's bed the entire time. She felt the doorknob dig into her back and winced before she fumbled for it, turned it slowly, and made her way out to the hallway, towards 9C and the woman who was waiting for her behind the door. The door to Will and Grace's apartment was unlocked, and when she silently opened it, she found the red head by the couch in the living room. Grace waited until Karen shut the door to rush over, press her lips against Karen's skin and lead her to her bedroom. "You know you almost got me in trouble tonight," she whispered with a smile as she shut the door to her bedroom, pulled Karen down on the mattress so that she was hovering over her. "I can't be stoic like you, I was so close to reacting when I felt your hand."

God, the smirk that Karen pulled. Grace would have given their secret up in a second under the influence of it. "Well, then," Karen said as she slid the red head's shirt over her head, "you should stop being so damn irresistible."

They made love against the moonlight, fully aware that Will was only across the hall but hardly restraining themselves. It wouldn't have been worth it that way. Grace knew that the chances were high that he was fast asleep anyway, deaf to the world, or at least to Riverside Drive. When they settled down, Karen lay gently on top of the red head, their skin connecting softly as Grace felt fingers combing through the curls of her hair. "I wish you didn't have to go tomorrow," she said softly. "I could have made some excuse about a date, we could have spent some time alone."

She wouldn't notice it until she was alone the next day, resting by the television and wondering what Karen was doing with Will. Surely it was never supposed to happen that way. But Grace felt an overwhelming sadness and disappointment over her solitary Valentine's Day, not because she was dateless, but because Karen wouldn't be with her. When did it get to this point with them? When had it finally taken every possible quality of a relationship?

When would they say that enough was enough and call it out for what it was?

Karen sighed and nodded. "I should have invited you. The whole point of bringing along someone else, aside from not having to face everyone alone, was to give them a little shock. Maybe I should have made that shock a little heavier." She kissed Grace's collarbone before resting her ear against the red head's chest, hearing her heart beat, softly, reassuringly. "I should have some time to myself at some point. I can call you from the hotel room."

Grace smiled, ran her finger along Karen's forearm. "Do you have to leave now, or can you stay for a little while longer?"

Karen looked up, locked eyes with the red head. "I can stay. I just need to make it look like I slept at Jack's when Will wakes up in the morning."

"Well, in that case…" Grace reluctantly stood up, found a robe and draped it over her bare skin. "Let me just get a glass of water, and then we can have a little Valentine's celebration of our own." She smiled as she watched Karen settle back onto the mattress and turned her back. In a few hours, she would be gone. But now, Grace wanted to hurry back, to not waste any time. But as she walked into the hallway, she froze at what she saw waiting for her.

A figure in the dark, outside her door. It could only be one person. But she didn't want to believe it. She honestly thought that they would be able to bypass this. But only dreamers can say that they didn't think this would be inevitable.

"How long have you been out here?" she whispered. She wondered if Will could see her chest move now that her heart was pounding, even in the dark like this. She wondered if he would pick her up if her legs gave out. Or if he would leave her on the floor, too disgusted with her lies. She liked to think that he wouldn't be that kind of person. She liked to think that she has known him long enough to predict what he would do. But she never kept this big of a secret before. And she couldn't rely on past examples now.

"Long enough," he said. And he watched as Grace padded towards the kitchen quickly as an escape, before he retreated to his bedroom.


	21. Late Nights And Tight Lips

_Then_

_You are absolutely sadistic. You know that, right? After all of these years, you'd think that we'd finally come to terms with it, but here we are, back at square one, giving you chance after chance after chance to prove us wrong. Honestly, I don't care what you do with me. I don't care what you say, what bitter things come out of your mouth that are directed towards me. I don't care about this childish prank you pulled tonight, or the countless others that I've had to go through in the time that I've known you. I've come to expect it; in a sick way, it's our demeanor, it's the only thing we know, and I can't fault you for it, because I've been known to do it, too. But to go after her like that, when she has been nothing but helpful to you…that's something I can't wrap my head around, no matter how hard I try._

_I know what you were doing last night. I know where you were when you were supposed to be calling it an early night at Jack's. I know. It's not a secret anymore._

He didn't talk to Grace after he saw her exit her bedroom last night. This was all he knew: there was more than one voice in that bedroom. From the high timbre of the second one, it became clear that Karen was not sleeping at Jack's. From the things he heard, he could only draw one conclusion. From the way Grace froze, eyes wide like a child caught doing something she knew she shouldn't be doing, he knew he was right. It was why the drive to Shelter Island was silent; he didn't know what he could possibly say to Karen on the way there without ripping her apart. Because it was obviously her fault, it had to be. Grace would never initiate something like this. At least not the Grace he knew. But instead of trying to intervene, he kept his mouth shut, and deep down, was grateful for the prank she pulled on him when they arrived for the ball. Telling everyone that he was a hired escort for the evening; the glances and suggestions from everyone else after her words kept him distracted from what he found out last night.

But that didn't mean that he didn't want to confront her. That didn't mean that he was going to let this mess go. No, he was going to wait until she was in her hotel room. He was going to wait until he knew she was alone. And then he'll talk. He won't let her get a word in until he finished all he had to say. And god, he had a lot to say. He spent the time he had away from the party to put together his thoughts, to make one cohesive speech. This way, he could easily get out everything he wanted to say to her.

_I don't know how you got Grace to fall for this one, but this is low, Karen. Even for you. It's cruel, really, playing with someone like that. Especially after how badly her break up with Nathan shook her up. And I know that's all you're doing. What else could it be? Stan's in prison, he can't be there with you to fulfill whatever it is you need, so you go looking for it elsewhere. But what made you pick her? What twisted little light went off inside your head that made you think this would be a good idea? After all she's done for you? If it weren't for her, you wouldn't be in our little group; it was only because you worked for her, only because we inevitably had to see you every time we visited the office, that you wiggled your way into our lives. Do you honestly have nothing going on in your life that you have to torment others like that?_

_Is that even a question I really want answered?_

Will heard the door next to his room open up, and he knew that Karen had come upstairs for a respite from the socialites she had been estranged from all this time. It must have been exhausting, being thrown back into this life after essentially being exiled from it once the handcuffs were locked around Stan's wrists. But in that moment, he didn't care if she was exhausted, and he didn't care if she didn't feel up to talking. In his mind, she carried all the blame on her shoulders, and even if she carried it well, it was still there. And someone had to call attention to it. Might as well be him.

He put his ear to the door to his own room, to make sure no one else was in the hallway. Sure, he wanted to get everything out, but the added embarrassment of other people listening in wasn't necessary; in fact, it would have been far too excessive, and he could never do that to anyone. He felt himself hesitate as he placed his hand on the doorknob. Come on, Will. You've got the steam, you've got the fuel. All you've got to do is walk the few feet to her door.

_She's not like you, Karen. She works in different ways. When you show her love, she'll show you love back. But unlike you, she can't turn it on and off. She wasn't born with that switch. So if you have an ounce of sympathy—or any emotion, for that matter—you'll leave her alone, because she doesn't deserve this. Find someone else to be the target of your psychological torture._

When he got to Karen's door, he saw that she hadn't closed it all the way. He knew it couldn't be intentional; he had never known her to be a closed-off person, true, but with the little she actually expressed about herself, he always figured her to be a private person, someone who could covet that alone time without hoarding it. Through the crack in the door, he could see her back turned towards him as she was seated on the bed. He pushed the door open a little more without making a sound and watched her as she picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hi," she said in a soft voice, louder than a whisper, but so delicate that it surprised Will for a moment. He had never known her to speak like that before. "Did I wake you? I know it's late. I tried to get away sooner, but I didn't want to leave Will by himself with people he didn't know." He couldn't help but smile at her consideration, but at the same time, he was so focused on figuring out who was on the other end of the phone line. He wished he could hear the voice. Jack. It was probably Jack. Always checking in with each other. It made sense. "Anyway, I think he might be pissed with me. Well…I _might_ have told everybody that he was a whore and I hired him to be my date tonight." He swore he could hear laughter from the phone that she held to her ear. And he swore that it didn't sound like Jack's laugh. And before he knew it, Karen washed away his doubt. "God…you have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice, Gracie."

Gracie. _Gracie_. He threw around that nickname so many times in the years that he had known the red head. But the spin Karen just put on it, that lilt in her voice…everything he was planning on saying to her—well, shouting was probably more like it—had vanished to the point where he wasn't quite sure what he would say when pressed to speak again.

"Remember that night when I took you to that restaurant? You had that green dress on that was absolutely stunning." Karen laughed, and he wished he could see her face, because he swore she had tears in her voice and he wanted to know if she had tears down her cheeks. "Yeah, before we went to Gray's Papaya. But do you remember how you told me that you felt like everyone in the place was judging you even though they weren't looking at you? It's like that over here. Only multiplied by one thousand. And they're eyes are locked on me."

It was crazy, he thought. For four years, she had been in his life. She sat at his dinner table, she participated in his poker games. She slipped into his circle of friends, and she seemed to trust him. But he was learning more about her life in the five minutes he had been eavesdropping on her phone conversation than he had since he had been introduced to her the day after Grace hired her. She became a real person, not an image of a person like he had always thought her to be.

"Anyway, I don't want to spend all my time complaining. I chose this life, I should stick it out." She sounded so sad when she said that, in a way he couldn't imagine her sounding. His heart went out to her. "I just wanted to say Happy Valentine's Day. I'm glad I got to spend the early hours with you. I just wish I could have woken up in the morning with you. I never got to thank you for bringing that extra glass of water into the room for me."

She didn't know. Grace didn't tell her about her encounter with him, he could tell in the way her voice smiled with that last sentence. And he wasn't going to be the one to tell her, not now, not anymore. They could be cruel to each other—they had to have crossed some kind of line once or twice in the time they've known each other—but he could never be this cruel. Because no matter what they said to each other, she was his friend. And he immediately felt terrible for the speech that never hit the air, but solidified in his thoughts until he heard Karen speak.

"Look, Grace, I don't think I have a lot of time left, so I'm going to let you go. Will's probably going to start looking for me soon, and I don't want him to get suspicious." God. He knew Grace must have winced with that one, and he knew that she must have been grateful that Karen couldn't see her over the phone line. They wouldn't speak of it now; Grace wouldn't do that over the phone, she wouldn't cop out like that. "I can call you when I get back to the penthouse, maybe you can sneak off for a little bit." Will listened carefully to her goodbye.

She didn't say "I love you." But he couldn't figure out if those words were implied.

When she hung up the phone, Will hid from sight and waited for a moment, so as not to incriminate himself. He let a couple of minutes go by before he looked in, saw her hunched over with a tissue in her hand, and knocked on her door. She jumped and whipped her head towards him. "What do you want?" she spit out. It sounded harsher than she wanted it to come out, but it was out there, and she couldn't take it back.

"I just…I wanted to see if you were okay." It was all he could to not to spill it all. _I heard you. I know it was Grace on the other line. You don't have to sneak around anymore._ But he forced those thoughts to the back of his mind and walked towards the bed, sat down beside her. He took the tissue in her hand, tossed it onto the nightstand and got her a clean one. "I guess I have my answer."

"I'm just not used to this, this feeling, that's all."

He realized what it was supposed to mean on the surface. She wasn't used to feeling of all the extra scrutiny, the extra judgment, that came along with Stan's arrest and imprisonment. But he knew that it went deeper than that. And where he used to think that Karen was just doing this to pass the time until her husband came back, he now understood the real reasons behind it. She wasn't used to the happiness that came with her actions with Grace. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Come on," he said as he stood up. "Let me buy you one last drink before you call it a night." He didn't know how he was going to handle Grace when he came back. He didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't know if he should say anything to Karen. But for now, he could offer her the silence.

Because sometimes, there were those rare cases when tight lips were golden.


	22. Is It Real

_Then_

"So, are we ever going to talk about this?"

They had gone a month without ever speaking a word about it. Not that it hadn't slipped from their minds. God, that would have been impossible. Grace couldn't escape it, but in the beginning, she convinced herself that she wasn't about to be the one to bring it to light. So when Will got home from Shelter Island in February, she stayed silent on the subject, opting instead for the generic "How was your trip?" and letting him talk until he was satisfied. And when he didn't bring up the night before Valentine's Day, when he didn't bring up that unfortunate timing of his, she heaved an internal sigh of relief, thankful for the opportunity to at least prepare what she was going to say to him. But then the days went on, and nothing was spoken of. Part of her wanted to believe that he forgot about it—it was such a fleeting moment anyway—and she could move on like it never happened. But she knew that nothing is ever that simple.

She didn't want to be the one to break the silence. But there she was. And she waited for Will to put down the newspaper he had in front of his face, she waited for him to look her in the eye. Because she knew that he wouldn't have any trouble figuring out what she was asking of him, and she knew that he wasn't one for beating around the bush. "I was waiting for you to come to me. It's not any of my business to pry into your love life, Grace."

"But that's what you do," she said as she took a seat next to him on the couch. She didn't lose her hold on his eyes as she moved, and she didn't sit too close; she wasn't sure what kind of conversation this was going to turn out to be. She couldn't tell whether he was angry, or he thought this was completely laughable. "That's what you've always done. Why haven't you done it now?"

"Because it's Karen. I wasn't sure I wanted to know." Well. She had to give him that one. If the tables were turned, if Will had, oddly enough, found himself in any semblance of a relationship with Jack (god, that one was hard to wrap her head around), she wasn't confident in her ability to handle the details. But Grace, she was a double whammy. Not only had she started sleeping with someone in their group, that tightly woven clique that had moved so well together for so long, but after the revolving door of men in her life, Grace picked Karen. Of all people. She knew it was a lot to take in, but she hoped that Will would be understanding.

"You know," he said, knowing that she wasn't going to make the first move in trying to explain herself, "I was actually going to start ripping into Karen when we got to Shelter Island. I wanted to wait until we were alone and I could get out everything that was going around in my mind. But then I overheard her phone call with you, or at least her end of it. And I know what her intentions are now. Of course, she doesn't know that. I'm not going to be the one to tell her that your secret isn't a secret anymore. I just don't know where you're coming from. What is this exactly? Some rebound period from Nathan that just lasted too long?"

"No. I already told you I'm not quite sure what it is. I guess I never made any progress on that one." The puzzled look on Will's face surprised her for a moment. Had he forgotten the conversation they had before he went to Chicago? "Will, right before you left on your business trip. We talked about it then, remember?"

She watched as his eyes grew wide in realization. "It's been going on that long?" In that moment, he shifted his glance, and Grace wished she could tell what he was thinking. "She stayed here while I was in Chicago, didn't she? She's the one you were waiting for, she's why you were so anxious to get me to leave. Why didn't you just tell me it was another woman? Then maybe I'd have been able to get a better handle on everything. You let me think that you met a guy and you were starting to move on from Nathan."

"I was starting to move on from Nathan. Does the rest of it really matter?"

Silence. They both knew that soon, they would find themselves in an endless circle of back and forth, saying the same things in different words, different inflections. And Will knew he was coming off as angry, when that was the last emotion he could pin on himself. He was more confused than anything, not only for the reasons obvious to Grace, but also for a reason she might not have guessed. Of course he was confused about the red head's sudden interest in Karen, and how it went on this long without him having the slightest clue about it. But he was more confused about the fact that all this time, since he had eavesdropped on Karen's clandestine phone call during the ball at Shelter Island, he found himself more worried about Karen's well-being than Grace's.

It was obvious how Karen felt. And the more he thought about it, it wasn't the craziest thing in the world. The few things he knew about her marriage to Stan had been told to him when Karen was asking for legal advice, when she had contemplated divorce and made attempts to get the ball rolling on it. Labeled as Stanley Walker's wife, Karen was not happy. And since Will never got to hear the good things about the marriage—if there were any—he was grateful that Karen was able to find some happiness, even if it did come in the form of his best friend. But trying to take a stand for this woman, making sure that she kept that happiness, was something foreign to him. He wasn't used to it.

But that didn't mean he was going to quit.

"So, is it real now?" he asked softly, so much so that he wasn't sure if Grace had heard him. "Someone outside of it knows. You can't brush it off like it's a dream every time you leave her penthouse. Does that make it real?"

"I guess. I still don't know where that leaves us. We never talked about it like that before, and I doubt that we will. Things have been going well in spite of it, I don't want to put pressure on her, or on me. I know how I'm supposed to feel, and I'm pretty sure that I do. But since we haven't said anything, I have no idea where her head is at when it comes to me."

"She feels it. The way she was talking to you on the phone that night, the way she found time to steal away just so she could hear your voice…you can't fake that sort of thing. You can try, but it won't work. And I think you know that she feels it, even if she never said it. You can't hide behind that excuse, Grace. That woman's been through enough already. You drag her along without truly feeling anything remotely like what she's feeling, and you make everything worse. I just hope you know what you're doing."

She froze. She couldn't tell him that Karen said it on her way out the door, at the end of their time living together. She couldn't tell him that she almost said it back just as quickly as Karen did, but stopped herself, because it was a reflex and she didn't want it to be a reflex. She wanted it to be genuine, she wanted it to be heartfelt. She wanted it to be meaningful. And she knew that it couldn't happen then. But why couldn't it happen now? Instead of answering her own question, she tried to turn it on him. "Since when do you come to Karen's defense?"

Will stood up, about to end the conversation. He didn't know what else to say to her, and he knew she didn't want to be there. "Since you've been so close to crossing the line," he said before he walked towards his bedroom. Grace waited until she heard the door shut behind him before she grabbed her jacket, left the apartment and hailed a cab to Park Avenue.

Grace watched through the backseat window at the cars speeding by around her, and tried to convince herself that Will had no idea what he was talking about. You couldn't look at those coffeehouse meetings, those walks in Riverside Park, the way they made love against the moonlight, and tell her that she didn't feel something for the woman. Of course there was something there. Of course she wasn't dragging Karen along for the hell of it. But there was a reason she hadn't voiced all of this, to Will, to Karen, to herself. There was a wall. She just couldn't figure out why it was there.

It all felt like love. So why couldn't she say it?

She got to the door of the penthouse, expecting what she always got; that warmth in Karen's skin that washed away all the bad things staining her mind. It was the solution to everything, it was what had drawn her to this fate in the first place. So transfixing, so damn intoxicating. As soon as the door opened, she took a hold of Karen's hand just to feel it.

Oh god. No. why isn't it working?

"I wasn't expecting you until late," Karen said with a smile as she brushed her lips against the red head's. "How did you get past Will?"

Will. His name almost a slap in the face. Because she couldn't get his words out of her mind. She couldn't stop trying to figure out why she hadn't spoken of love. She felt Karen's warmth (god, it was so inviting, even when her head was spinning), but it couldn't defeat the giants lurking in the dark. She faltered with her words. "He, uh…he went out. I left shortly after." It seemed to be enough for Karen. Her smile grew wider, her hold on Grace's hand grew stronger as she led the red head up the stairs to the bedroom. She felt the same thrill she got every time Karen unbuttoned her blouse and slid her fingers along her body.

But now, thanks to Will, as she looked into Karen's eyes, she couldn't help but see a woman in love.

And, as much as she didn't want to admit it, it scared her.


	23. I'll Remember

_"You may hate me,  
>But I'll remember to love you."<br>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" _

_Now_

I wish I knew what was going on through your head towards the end, before you met Leo and made your decision. I wish I knew what made you pull back. You were never one to jump blindly into the water, especially when it came to you and me. Those early days found you skittish, scared of being caught, and even when you loosened up, it wasn't all the way. But we invested so much of our time in this by the time your eyes started to glaze over, and for the life of me, I can't figure out what it was I did. Because it had to have been me. In the end, it always is. No one ever says it outright, but I can see it in their eyes when they tell me they have to leave, even though they always promise me that they'll never do it. You never promised. You never thought to, and I never thought to ask it of you.

So maybe I should have seen it coming.

There would be nights when you would go through all the motions and I wouldn't suspect a thing. But now, looking back on it all (because here I am with nothing better to do, at your second reception, as if the first one didn't take along with the first time you and Leo tried to marry. Whims like that can't be granted so easily, you should have known a last minute wedding in the park couldn't meet the expectations you had), there were clues, things you said or things you did that I should have picked up on. The way you held my hand in the dark, right before we fell asleep, wasn't as tight as it used to be. It was something I never thought about before, something that seemed so trivial that it didn't deserve my time. Or the way your voice sounded when I asked you what was bothering you and you told me that everything was okay. You didn't sound like you believed yourself.

Or when you finally told me you loved me, it sounded more like reassurance than a genuine proclamation. At the time, I was only focused on the words, not how they spilled from your lips. I guess that's my fault, for failing to pay attention to those slight changes in your demeanor, and I shouldn't put all the blame on you. If only I was more attentive to the things that were screaming for my acknowledgement, maybe I could have fixed it (or, at the very least, broken it off before the point of no return, before I got to this state).

Although, now that I think about it, I couldn't have fixed it. In the end, I wasn't the person you needed me to be.

It's why everyone ends up breaking their promise of staying eventually; maybe it was the reason you never promised to begin with. You were thrilled, intrigued, when you got the chance to dig down deep and see the parts of me that I never let anyone see. But then you got to the bottom of me, you saw all that you needed to see, or all that you possibly could see, and once you got there, you got bored. There was nothing more to mine through, nothing to discover. So you did the only natural thing to do; you went on to the next prospect. You found Leo, you found a treasure trove of life experiences and habits that you were dying to rifle through. And you left.

Do you want to know the worst part of it? You left before I truly had a chance to mine through your eccentricities, what makes you tic, what makes you cry, before I truly had a chance to get to know you at all. Not that you were a complete stranger to me. You've been in my life now for five years, I know what Jack knows, I know some of what Will knows (and I know he's aware of just about everything). But as far as I know, up until Leo, I was the only one who got to hold you, and caress your skin. I knew your body. So why couldn't you allow me to know your soul? I promise you, once I got down to the bottom, I wouldn't have gotten bored. I would have kept safe everything that I found.

We had already been through too much heartache for our years. I wasn't about to lay any more on you.

Something inside you had switched. Something inside you abruptly changed the way you saw me. I don't know what it was. I don't know if it was something I had done (although I know I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary since that first kiss). But you dropped me like a scalding hot plate, letting me shatter to the ground. I don't want to say it, because on the surface—in the company of others—you kept a straight face and it has placated me somewhat, made me think that I was imagining things. But the feeling didn't last long, and I can't shake the one that replaced it.

That feeling that somehow, your love for me—and I hesitate to use that word, because of the way you first said it to me—had slowly turned towards hate. And isn't that the way it always goes?

If it isn't my lover who ends up hating me, I end up hating them, for some reason or another. Except for my second husband, who passed away before the opportunity arose (god, I loved him. Oddly enough, the way I feel for you was the only thing to ever rival what I felt for him). I grew to hate my first husband, my first girlfriend grew to hate me. And when it came to Stanley, I think we turned on each other at the same time. When he grew distant, I grew tired. But I checked out before he did, I ran into the arms of another person before he had the chance to catch up, and if he knew about that, he wouldn't let me live it down.

There wasn't enough time for me to start hating you (and even if there was, I could never imagine myself getting to that point. I can be a cold person when I want to be, Grace, but you were always the one to melt me, and that will never change). I guess the only logical conclusion would be for you to start that process.

But I still love you. Even if you forget to love me, I will always feel this way.

I am nothing but a spectator now, watching strangers file into this reception, taking their seats. I can't help but wonder how they would feel about your brand new marriage, knowing all the facts. I wonder how they would feel if they knew about the way you held my hand in the Chelsea coffeehouse or the way your emerald dress shined in the fluorescent light of Gray's Papaya. I wonder how they would feel if they knew how much you trusted me the first time we made love, how every time after that you explored my body more and more but still knew that I would keep you safe. Maybe they couldn't care less. But stack up the months you and I shared behind closed doors, and I can guarantee you they make a higher pile than the two months you had with Leo before you decided to wear his ring on your finger.

Arguing the matter is pointless now. It exhausts me, but it's all I can do. And Will walks over, sits in the chair next to me at the table with a look I can't pin down. These thoughts aren't safe around him, around anyone for that matter. Because I'm not about to tarnish how other people see you, especially on your wedding day. As much as I've wanted to say something all day, as much as I wanted to object and as much as I wanted to shout out all the reasons why you shouldn't do this, I've kept quiet for you. All for you.

I don't know how much that's worth anymore, but it's there.

Will's eyes are still on me—I can feel them, and as I turn to meet his gaze, he confirms my expectations—and more than anything right now, I wish someone else would sit down at this table. Anyone. Someone that could turn his head and take the spotlight off of me. One of your relatives coming by to say a friendly hello to a face that looks somewhat familiar. One of your new husband's friends, or someone from his family, coming around to introduce themselves, because you never know how often you two will be running into each other now. Jack. I'd give anything for Jack to make his way over (god, I wish I knew where he was). Because as much as I felt the need to sink neck-deep in my self-pity during the ceremony, I'd give anything to be thrown a life ring right now, and he's always been the one with the best aim. But I won't get his antics. I won't get anything but Will's eyes. I turn to lock mine with his as he takes a breath.

"Beautiful ceremony, wasn't it?"

All I can do is nod. What else can I say? Even if I start to speak, I know my voice will give out. It will start to crack under the pressure, and he'll figure me out. I'm good at hiding my own secrets, but when other people are involved, I become the worst liar. And the reception of your wedding to another person is not the best place to let Will know that his best friend was slumming it with a woman who didn't deserve her. But just when I think he'll let it go, he grabs a hold of me at the last minute and decides not to let go.

"You look like something's troubling you, Karen."

"It's nothing, really." I sound so forceful that, for a second, I almost convince myself of what I've just said. But I know I've left the door open for more speculation, and I need to come up with an excuse fast. "You know…it's…" I hate being so tongue-tied, "Everything that's been going on with Stan. As soon as he came home from prison, everything fell apart. I mean, I know that we were hanging on by a thread for a long time now, but just like that, we're separated, I'm living at the Palace while he gets to shack up with that British tart he brought home as souvenir of his time behind bars. And I'm happy for Grace, I really am…" Well, would you look at that? One giant lie, and my voice didn't waver once. "It just brings up a lot of stuff that I don't want to deal with."

He studies me for a second, and I feel as though I'm in the same position I was in with you; I cannot place where his mind is. I can't take it anymore. I look down at my lap, wring my hands and wait for him to speak, because I can't handle the silence much longer. "I wish I could believe you," he says, and my head snaps up to meet his gaze.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, that may be part of it, I'll give you that. I get that you're going through a rough time right now. Even if you and Stan hadn't had a good relationship in a long time, it always hurts to cut that final tie and let him go for good. So I get it, I do. But I know that it isn't what's really bothering you tonight. I could see it in your eyes at the ceremony when I looked back in your direction. It was why I looked back in the first place, just to see if you were okay."

"Will, I'm really not in the mood to pretend to give a damn about your cryptic little games right now. You want to just tell me what you're getting at?"

"You and Grace. Don't worry, I didn't say anything to Jack. But, I just wanted you to know…I was on your side pretty much the entire time I knew. So if you need to talk…"

He says more, but at that point I tune him out. I can't feel my heartbeat. I can't feel anything except for this feeling of betrayal.

When did you tell him?


	24. If A Tree Falls

_Then_

She sat on the side of the bed, studying the way the moonlight hit the body under the sheets, and wondered why the hell she felt as though she shouldn't be here.

Karen looked so beautiful, it made her want to cry. Always the porcelain beauty queen that intoxicated her from the start. She had started to let her hair grow out so that it brushed past her shoulders (a result of that one night when Grace told her she'd love to see her hair longer, and Karen laughed an acceptance of the red head's challenge), covering her alabaster skin as she slept. The shirt she was wearing mingled with Grace's jeans on the floor beside the bed, and the red head wondered why they were always so clumsy, always fiercely throwing away anything getting in the way of that connection. They weren't going to get caught, not at the penthouse. They already got caught on Riverside Drive. There was no time constraint anymore, although Karen didn't know these last two things. And god, the way she sighed in her sleep just now…everything was telling her that she was in the right place.

But Grace couldn't shake this feeling.

Ever since she talked to Will, ever since she found out that he overheard Karen's side of that Valentine's phone conversation, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She knew that Karen loved her. Of course she knew. It didn't matter that Karen never spoke of that slip of the tongue, that fleeting moment before their stint playing house ended that she said those three words one can never take back. It didn't matter that the issue was never pushed (because no issues were ever pushed between the two of them, and look where that got them). What mattered was the voice Karen reserved for the red head whenever they were alone. Grace could hear her speak the most mundane things on the planet and still know that she had Karen's heart if she wanted it. And it scared her to death. Because she never thought she should be trusted with something as valuable as that.

It wasn't that she didn't feel anything for Karen. She wouldn't still be here if she was indifferent. No, she could still feel the warmth that drew her to Karen in the first place, she could still be intoxicated by it all. And it wasn't even that someone on the outside knew. In all honesty, there was still a thrill in going over to the penthouse, in the lattes at the Chelsea coffeehouse, despite the fact that Will knew. It was the fact that she was afraid of how Karen might react to the fact that this wasn't a secret anymore. It was the fact that she might change the way she feels once she realizes that the thrill of sneaking around was the only thing that made Grace exciting to her.

Or at least that's how it started.

She used to wonder if things would change once she knew that they were caught. And when it didn't, she started wondering if things would change once they both knew. What would happen once the spotlight was on them, and they were forced to perform tricks to prove that they were a couple? What happened if they got stage fright, if they couldn't perform on command, and everyone would start to believe that it's a sham? That constant feeling of having to prove themselves to others…that was something she wasn't sure she could deal with. And the way things were now guaranteed her that she would never have to.

But as with everything else in her life, as soon as one worry was quelled, another came by to replace it. And as soon as Grace stopped fretting about the spotlight, she started worrying about life in the dark. If no one knows what goes on behind closed doors (and Will could never know everything, let's face it), could it be considered real? And if it can't, what does that make of the months she's spent with Karen? Grace hated to think that their time together had to be validated by public acknowledgement, because that really wasn't how she considered it. But she couldn't help but notice a similarity between her connection with Karen and that old and severely clichéd question about that tree in the forest. A few words thrown out and replaced, and you got the thing that has been plaguing the red head's mind non-stop.

If a relationship evolves, and no one's around to see it do so, does it make an impact?

Well. Of course it did. At least in certain spots. There was no question that Grace's life had changed, and she liked to think she left a positive imprint in Karen's. But how much further could it go before it went hoarse from screaming for attention? In every relationship Grace had prior to her affair with Karen—she never wanted to call it an affair, but it's a secret, so that's what it has to be, right?—the one she was with left his (or, in one other case, her) mark in the red head's history, usually because of their exits, the ones where everyone rallied by her side. With Will, it was the revelation she was never expecting. Danny, it was the weight of the ring she just couldn't accept. With Nathan, it was the loss of the ring she wanted more than anything. And with Karen, it was…god, what was it? Why couldn't she figure it out? Because Karen hasn't left her yet? Or because no one was able to help her judge the magnitude of the things they've done? Why was this so hard?

And then there was the guy she met in the park this afternoon. Leo, yes, that was his name. A man who literally rode in on a white horse, something that she didn't think anyone did anymore, or to begin with. She turned him down, she didn't want to be the person who turned her back on Karen so willingly like that. But damn that charm. Damn that smile. Damn that confidence that, under any other circumstances, would have made her sway towards him without regret. Once or twice, in a moment of thick silence tonight, he had crossed her thoughts, only to make her wince at her own mind. It wasn't that she wanted out with Karen; even now, watching her sleep, she would give anything to be in her arms. But still, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to that one obvious point.

She wouldn't have to hide with Leo. It could be easy. It could be so easy.

Grace leaned over, across the mattress, brushed her lips gently on Karen's forehead. It was all she could think of to do. Grabbing for it on the nightstand next to her, she could make out the time on the face of her watch in the moonlight; in a few hours, she would have to go back to Riverside Drive, if she wanted to keep up the charade of secrecy. The thought exhausted her. Her mother told her that anything worth having is never easy to obtain. But if she was exhausted by this, like Nathan was exhausted by their back and forth proposals, who's to say she won't back out for the simpler solution, just like he did? She liked to think that she wasn't that kind of person, but she's done some things as of late she never thought she would do.

No, Grace. You know this is worth it. You know the only lure to that man was the lack of secrecy. And you'll probably never see him again, anyway. Best to forget it all. Look at the beauty queen beside you. Do not forsake her. You'll never forgive yourself if you do.

Karen moved underneath the sheets and sighed, her eyes fluttering open in slow motion in reaction to Grace's kiss. "Gracie," she said in a soft and sleep-heavy voice, her hand sliding across the mattress to make contact with the red head's. "Honey, what are you doing out of bed? Do you have to leave me?"

There was something so innocent in the way she said it; it made Grace's heart want to break. Grace crawled underneath the sheets and pulled Karen in, feeling the weight of the dark-haired woman's body against her skin. It felt like the most familiar thing in the world, but something she couldn't get enough of. Something that quelled her thoughts, if only for a little while. She kissed the crown of Karen's head and could smell that intoxicating scent of gardenia she always wore. "Of course not," Grace said as she tightened her hold on her lover. Later, she would think back on Karen's fleeting question. Later, she would put too much weight on it. Later, she would overanalyze, she would make it fit something it wasn't supposed to. But she didn't think of that now. All she saw was Karen. "Actually, I was thinking that I could probably bypass Will in the morning. If all else fails, I could lie and make it seem like some sort of morning-after walk of shame from a first date."

Karen looked up and her and laughed quietly. "But you're a horrible liar," she said as she stretched to kiss the red head's cheek. "Which is an amazing quality in any other situation, but it's not going to help you in the morning. I don't want you to get into hot water with Will."

It was then that Grace realized how deceptive she could truly be. She had been lying by omission for months about Will knowing of their connection. And to her knowledge, she had been doing a damn good job of it. Karen never asked once about another person knowing, she never questioned Will's glances, never sought a deeper meaning to any of it. And yet there was that giant piece of information, lying in the middle of the floor, Karen unknowingly stepping over it while Grace bit her tongue. She was a good liar. She was a great liar.

And, if she had to admit it, it scared her.

"That's nothing you need to worry about," Grace said as she settled against her pillow. "I can handle him. Right now, I can't think of any place I'd rather be but here. I don't want to leave. I want to stay here with you."

She watched as Karen smiled and closed her eyes, snuggling into her chest in a silence that should have been sweet, that should have been comfortable. But there was Grace's doubt, starting to creep in once again. Karen was married; Stan could come back at anytime. He could be behind the door right now, knowing Grace's luck. Everything was on the down-low. How hard can something be before you have to cry "Uncle"?

No. Stop it. You're here now, Grace. You've got her in your arms. You've got everything you need right now. Just push it out of your mind, Grace.

Push it out of your mind.


	25. Questions You Don't Want Answers To

_Then_

"Where are you right now?"

Karen's voice startled her back into reality as she took a moment to gather her thoughts back into one place. She had lost herself in her own world, staring out of the window of the Chelsea coffeehouse, letting her latte grow colder in the mug. It was the dark-haired woman's suggestion to take a break in their regular haunt; the red head had a meeting in the area, and Karen thought this coffee break would give them the opportunity to get the time in they so desperately craved. Grace wanted to blame it on the lull in conversation, but she knew that even if Karen had been talking, her mind would have wandered slightly anyway. She knew she wouldn't have been able to help it, and she hated that. Because it shouldn't be that way, and it wasn't what she had planned (look at her, acting like she planned her tryst with Karen all along). Nothing good would come from this, it was obvious. But when everything in her power failed her, what more could she do?

"God, I'm sorry. I'm right here," the red head said as she brushed her hand along Karen's cheek and offered a small and, by the look of Karen's glance, not very convincing smile. "I'm still here." But for how long?

She ran into him again this morning, outside of her office building, thankfully before Karen got there. Leo. _What, are you stalking me now?_ It spilled from her lips more playfully than she would have liked; she was more surprised than anything. He wasn't supposed to come back into her life. He wasn't supposed to be here. But there he was. And then she asked that question. It made it sound like he had a chance with her. He smiled like it, too. She couldn't help but laugh, not at the situation—although that was certainly laughable—but at the way his confidence bordered on cocky. Normally she would have made a run for it, with any other man. But he wasn't any other man. And she found it difficult to move in any one direction.

_I could ask the same of you. It just so happens my office isn't too far away from here._ She watched his smile grow wider as he said that. She had to admit, he was an intriguing man, but that was as far as her interest could go. Come on, Grace, you've already been through this. _And you?_ He asked. _To what do I owe this surprise?_

She pointed to the Puck Building. _I work here._ Careful, Grace. Stay for too long, and you're back where you started. Karen should be coming any minute, do you really want to risk it? _I'm actually running a little late, so I should really go in_. The lies are just sliding out now, aren't they? Sure, this was just a little white one, but it just illuminated the fact that she was capable of more.

_Wait, Grace_, he said as he took a soft hold on her arm, trying to stop her from walking through the building's door. _Please. We've run into each other twice now. This can't be just another coincidence. Come on, this is New York City; how often do you run into the same stranger twice? Let me take you out to dinner this week. What have you got to lose?_

Grace hesitated, and she knew he was taking it to be a good sign. She knew he was taking it to mean that she was wavering on her stance. But in actuality, she was thinking of Karen in that moment. She was thinking of the hurt she'd inflict if she said yes. And she wasn't even sure she wanted to say yes. But the fact that she was thinking about it brought on the heavy guilt she deserved to feel. _I told you before that I can't. I've got to go._ The conviction that was once in her voice had disappeared, and she rushed through the door of the Puck Building, not wanting to give him a chance to try to change her mind.

But that didn't mean it didn't stay in her thoughts.

Now, she grabbed Karen's hand, wove her fingers with her own. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately," she said softly, hanging her head as she said it. "It's nothing to do with you. You're perfect. I think I'm just in a funk and I can't explain it. But you don't deserve to be dragged along by it."

Karen moved in closer, slid her hand onto Grace's thigh in a way that was more comforting than anything else. "We'll get through it," she whispered into the red head's ear. "I'm not going anywhere, you know that. This will pass eventually, we'll get back to normal."

"But what happens when Stan gets out of prison?" It was a question Grace didn't dare to ask before; she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer. But once that slipped from her lips, she couldn't help herself; she couldn't stop. "You know, he'll come home, and it'll be so easy to just slip back into your normal routine. Why make your life any harder than it has to be?" It's funny how closely Karen's future situation so closely mirrored her own. But there was one difference. Karen didn't hesitate in her answer.

"I think I'm going to leave him. I mean, it was only a matter of time, anyway. It's been the only logical conclusion even before he got himself into this mess. So I can always make up some excuse, tell him that I wanted to wait until he was home because I didn't want to leave him while he was in prison, since that's really when he needed me the most. And then I can rent out a hotel room until I can find a place of my own. It'll be one less person for us to worry about." She looked into the red head's eyes and smiled. "Gracie, you know how I feel about you. You had to know that I wasn't going to pretend this never happened when he comes back."

It should have made Grace happy. It ended up piercing her chest.

Karen looked at the watch on her wrist. "Oh god, honey, if you don't leave now, you're going to be late for your meeting." She grabbed their mugs and put them on the counter as Grace gathered her things. The red head couldn't figure it out for the life of her; how could Karen be so sure about all of this when she didn't have the slightest clue? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. It couldn't end well, but she was going to fight like hell against that notion. Or at least try to.

Grace kissed Karen's palm softly outside of the coffeehouse. She could see the concerned look in her lover's eyes as she pulled away. "Are you going to be okay?" Karen asked. All Grace could do was nod. And as she walked off, she hoped that by the time she set foot in her office, the uneasiness would go away.

* * *

><p>Karen walked into the silence of Grace Adler Designs and couldn't help but feel the urge to pace around the hardwood floors. She didn't know what else to do with herself; she had left the coffeehouse with a sense of discomfort, thinking of Grace and the distance the red head tried to pass off as fleeting but they knew was there. And it came on all of a sudden (or maybe it was there all along, and she never noticed it until now, choosing to focus on the good). But then again, everything that involved the two of them lately had come on all of a sudden. That first kiss to Billie Holiday, the first time they made love in Grace's bed, the first time she said "I love you" to the red head. So if a downfall was going to take place, it might as well follow the suit of everything that came before it.<p>

She just wished she had a little more time to prepare herself.

It had to be Stan. What other reason could she possibly have? Karen hadn't done anything differently, said anything out of the ordinary; there were no surprises like that in her. When it came down to it, she was married. It didn't matter if she wasn't acting like it. And eventually, he was coming back. Eventually, he would stop being absent, at least physically (he would always, always, be absent emotionally, and any other figurative way imaginable). It was that uncertainty that gnawed at her from time to time. She didn't know when he was getting out. For all she knew, it could be tomorrow, it could be next week, it could be next year…she hated that she couldn't be sure. And if she was feeling this way, she knew that Grace would be feeling it too.

But Karen said she would leave him. And she meant it. All those years of contemplating her exit, of taking all the steps except that important one. She never had any true motivation back then. Sure, it would be better for her happiness in the long run, but when it came down to it, it was just simpler to stay married to the man. But now, there was Grace. Now, there was a reason for her to be free of her past, free of those ties.

Maybe that was what was freaking Grace out. Commitment.

Karen was making her way to her desk when she saw a man walk through the door. From the way he stood at the doorway, she could tell that he felt like he shouldn't be there, and she wanted to know what made him stop by anyway. He shifted his weight between his feet for a little while before making eye contact with her and forcing a smile. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm actually, uh…I'm looking for Grace."

"She's in Chelsea with a client right now. I can tell her you stopped by, though. What's your name, honey?"

"Leo. Listen, would it be okay if I wrote her a note and gave it to you? Would you make sure she got it?" Karen nodded and handed him a pen and a piece of paper. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something about him made her uneasy. How exactly did he know Grace? What was his angle? If only the red head were here, she would be able to figure it out by their interaction. Leo folded up the note and slid it across the desk. "Thanks," he said quietly before he walked out the door. Karen gave it a minute, to be sure he was out of the building, before she opened up the note and read what he had written.

_Thought I'd give it one more shot. Have dinner with me tonight. Still think it's just a coincidence?_

Oh god. It was him. He was the distance. He was the reason Grace was slipping from her grasp.

She could feel the questions she didn't want answers to form a ball in her chest that wouldn't go away. She could feel everything start to slip. She could feel the note, complete with his phone number, crumpling in her fist as the tears started to slide down her cheeks, burning and stinging her as they hit her skin.


	26. Three Little Words

_Then_

It just happened this way, how she ended up waiting for Grace in the library. She didn't give any thought to the fact that this rollercoaster started here, to a soundtrack that was accidental but somehow appropriate. And now that she was in here, she was starting to warm up to how cyclical their relationship was turning out to be. She glanced over towards the stereo after she put another log on the fire. _God_, she thought. _Maybe I should throw on some Billie Holiday for old time's sake._ Karen hated how acidic the sarcasm in her mind was, but honestly, who could blame her now? It was only a matter of time until the thoughts in her head hit the air, and as much as she didn't want that to happen, she knew it was inevitable.

She dug into her pants pocket and pulled out the crumpled note Leo had given her to pass along to Grace. She couldn't bear to hand it over when the red head walked into the office after her meeting. The way she said hello breathlessly as she walked in, the way she pressed her lips against Karen's cheek like what they had meant something to her. Karen didn't want to break the way that felt. If she brought up the unexpected visitor now, it would just seem cruel, not only to Grace but to herself. The note had been hot inside her fist the entire time; once Grace made her way over to her own desk, she shoved it in her pocket and forgot about it.

Until she got home.

Karen poured herself a glass of scotch and spent the time before Grace was to show trying to sip herself into a stupor—or at least into a comfortable numbness—and letting her fingers run over the note in her pocket. She still wasn't sure if she should give it to the red head. Because who knew? Maybe if Grace had no idea about Leo's visit, if she didn't have his number and therefore wouldn't call him, he would let the whole thing drop. And if he let the whole thing drop, Karen wouldn't have to worry about it. All would be forgotten. Except for that note burning a hole in her pocket. Except for that thought that would no doubt linger for good, the thought that she kept this from Grace. And she knew that would be eating at her.

So which was worse: personally allowing for the opportunity, or the immense guilt for not playing messenger like she should have?

Maybe it's better that she tell Grace here. The only light was coming from the fireplace in front of her and a small floor lamp on the other side of the room; it would be dark enough so that she wouldn't have to search for the red head's eyes if she didn't want to. Because to have to look the one she loved in the eye while she handed over someone else's request for her hand was something she didn't think she had the strength to do.

Karen heard the front door open and shut, heard footsteps coming closer and closer until a shadowed figure appeared in the doorway. Her heart skipped a beat, but not for the reasons it usually does when she's in the red head's presence. "There you are," Grace said with a smile in her voice. "Why is it so dark in here?" Karen could tell she was reaching for the light switch.

"Don't," she said. "It's fine the way it is." Grace made her way towards the couch, and she knew that now was the time. Karen slid the paper from her fist to the space in between her fingertips and held it out towards the red head. "I guess I should have given this to you earlier. Leo stopped by, wanted you to have it." Listen to her, the way she let that flow from her lips with such nonchalance. As if Leo was just another guy, someone who would go away just as easily as he got there. She saw Grace's hesitation as she took the note from her grasp but refused to say anything until the red head opened her mouth.

Grace opened the note and made her way towards the fireplace for light, standing there for a moment as if Leo had written her a novel. God, that silence. It was worse than anything else Karen could remember. It was all of three sentences…what was taking her so long? "Uh…" she finally said, faltering for a word, any word, that would be suitable now. "Thanks for giving this to me." She slid the note on the end table by the couch before taking a seat next to Karen. She rested her hand on top of her lover's as if nothing happened.

"Grace," Karen said, and then stopped. It sounded so strange now, after months of calling her "Gracie." She almost couldn't finish what she had to say. "If you wanted out, you could have at least told me first." She felt Grace's hand slide from hers as soon as her words hit the air and knew she had touched a nerve. She knew that there was more to this than merely one man's stumbling advances.

"Karen, why would you think something like that?" She brushed her hand along Karen's cheek, turning her gaze so that they locked eyes. "Did you read it?"

Karen took a hold of Grace's wrist and pushed her hand away from her cheek. "I wasn't going to. But I saw the way he acted, and I knew something was off. He came in while you were still in Chelsea, and I could just tell by the way he moved. He was hesitating in the doorway, he was fumbling with his words. He was doing everything I try not to do whenever I'm around you. You just have that effect on people, I guess. But I know how he feels. It's so obvious."

"Then you also know that I rejected him. Twice. For you." Grace's voice started to rise and she wasn't quite sure why. There was no reason for her to be angry at Karen. And, for the moment, there wasn't any reason to feel as though she should defend herself. Yet. "I didn't tell him about you. I didn't tell him I was seeing anyone. But I just kept thinking about you, and everything we have here, and I didn't want to throw that away."

"But what do we have, Grace?"

"We have what we always had. All those months. It's not like I've just fallen into this for the hell of it. What do you think we've been doing all this time?"

"Oh, come on. You know that's not what I'm talking about. It doesn't matter that we never told anyone. I can deal with that. As long as you climb into bed with me at the end of the day, I don't care that I have to keep it to myself. But I have no idea where we are, and the one time I gave us the opportunity to figure that out, you do nothing about it!"

Grace jumped back in her seat in shock. She had never heard Karen talk like that before. She always thought that they were on the same page; they wouldn't speak of what they were doing, so long as they kept doing it. But as she looked into Karen's eyes and saw the tears start to well up against the dark haired woman's will, she realized that her entire line of thought was doing them more harm than anything. "What opportunity are you talking about, Karen? I don't understand."

"I told you that I love you, and you act like it never happened! Even if you didn't hear it, I know you felt it. There's no way you could have gone this long without sensing it. I don't normally put myself out there like that, I hate being so exposed. I'm not even asking for you to say it back, I just…I don't know what I want."

The red head closed her eyes, recalled the night she first heard those words. Of course she heard them. They were soft, almost fleeting, but she heard them. But it was after that week and a half they spent living together; she thought it was the aftermath of that. She thought that once things got back to normal, that feeling would be just like Grace thought it was: fleeting. As time went on, she realized how much truth there was within those three words. And she wasn't sure how to handle it, so she let it go. Turned out that not handling it at all made everything worse. "I…I…" Anything she would say to try to quell those tears would be useless, and she was stumbling for the right words anyway. Damn him. Damn Leo. If he hadn't worked his way into her life, none of this would be happening.

"Just forget it," Karen whispered as she stood up, making her way towards the door. It was too much for her to take. All she wanted now was to go to bed, fall asleep and let the morning sun wash the memory of this night away, along with this Leo guy and everything else plaguing their relationship. She was halfway out the door when she felt a hand on her wrist, pulling her back into the library when all her energy was dead set against it.

"Karen." Grace pulled her into her arms, kissed the "L" her neck and shoulder made. She made sure she could look Karen in the eye as she spoke. "I love you. Okay? I love you. I shouldn't have waited so long to tell you." She watched Karen's lips as they curled up in a small, saddened smile before Karen buried her face against the red head's chest. "He means nothing to me. And the fact that you think he does…I just haven't done what I need to for you. I love you."

It didn't matter how many times she said it; Grace thought it sounded more like reassurance to her than it did that first meaningful declaration of love.

But Karen looked at her. Karen took what Grace gave her. Karen brushed her lips against the red head's cheek and sighed. "I didn't mean to get like this," she said quietly. "I'm just not ready to let this go yet." Grace didn't say a word, simply led her back to the couch. The note was still on the end table, in the red head's sight line. She'd take it and throw it in the trash the first chance she got. She wouldn't call the man. Sure, he knew where she worked now, but she could avoid him if she really wanted to. She could make it right again.

Grace pressed her lips against Karen's as she let her hands slide down her lover's body. She found a place where Karen's blouse couldn't cover and slid her hand to do the work the fabric couldn't. She smiled, not only for the way Karen closed her eyes, but for the same warmth she felt every time she touched her. But as Grace leaned in, Karen opened her eyes, surprised by the way her touch felt, unlike any other time Grace had done so.

This time, her touch was cold.


	27. Just One

_Then_

"Where's your girl today?"

Grace looked up from her wallet into the barista's eyes. She didn't realize how much of a reputation she had built with Karen in this small Chelsea coffeehouse. But it was only a matter of time, she guessed. They knew they would never be caught in a place like this, which was why it quickly became their go-to place whenever they needed a quick getaway together; it was only natural for them to become regulars, for them to become familiar faces to the people who worked here. And while she couldn't speak for Karen, she never visited this place by herself. Still, the question took her aback. She never heard Karen referred to in that way before. It was strange to hear a virtual stranger legitimize their relationship before they had fully done so themselves.

"Oh," she started as she handed him the cash for her drink, "she's working right now." Well. That was partially true. Karen was at the office, but Grace was certain she had nothing to do. The red head just needed some time to herself, and this was the first place she thought of. "I'll pick something up for her before I leave." Grace grabbed her mug and, as a reflex, made her way towards the table she and Karen always claimed. She gazed out the window as she put the mug to her lips, drifting deeper and deeper into her own thoughts.

Since the night Karen gave her Leo's note, she found it hard to figure out exactly what to say around her. It was one thing to see Karen Walker look so fragile because of something her husband had done (and even that was odd in itself), but to know that she was partially to blame for it was something else. And she did feel partly to blame. Leo was after her; she was the one to bring him into Karen's life, even if she didn't want to do it. Not to mention, she felt as though she had to tiptoe around Karen, make sure she said the right thing, especially now that Karen met the man. She wanted to make sure that when she spoke, it was obvious that she meant what she said that night. Because she meant it. Even if it didn't come out the way she wanted it to, she meant it.

She just wished she could redo that day all over again.

If she had known that he would be that persistent, she would have said yes to the guy just to get him to back off. Let him set the date, tell her where to meet him, and then when the time came, she wouldn't have shown up. He would have gotten the hint. True, it was a little heartless, but if it meant sparing Karen the apparent heartache she caused, she sure as hell would have done it, had it crossed her mind. He wouldn't have been a problem if it had. He wouldn't have made his way into the office. He wouldn't have met Karen. He wouldn't have set off all of this. She felt completely helpless, and the only person she could trust to turn to was the one person she was hurting. She knew she couldn't go to Will with this, not after that conversation they had after he found out. Not after he came to Karen's defense, not after he warned her not to drag her along. If he knew about Leo, it would make her feel worse; she didn't want that. And as selfish as that sounded, it was true.

Grace let her eyes focus on the sidewalk outside of the window, trying to take her mind off of everything swimming around inside it. The fact that someone was staring in at her from the outside jerked her back into reality in an instant. The fact that it was Leo on the other side of that window cemented her in her seat in disbelief. He put on a small smile, lifted his hand in a wave before he made his way through the front door. "Please," he said, before she was able to get a word in. "Just please stay. Don't go." She stared at him as he ordered at the counter, came back with coffee in hand and sat down next to her, in the spot Karen usually occupied.

No. This was too much. She found the strength to finally move, and frantically started gathering her belongings. "You can't keep doing this to me," she said. "I don't know how you knew I would be here, or why you think it's okay to take the seat next to me without so much as asking, but you know what? It doesn't matter anyway. I'm leaving. Please…take a hint." She stood up to leave when she felt his hand reach for her wrist, stopping her.

"Grace, would you relax? Come on. I had no idea you would be here right now. How could I have known? Look, I want to apologize to you for the way I've been acting. I shouldn't have gone back to your office the other day. I shouldn't have given your co-worker that note…which I'm assuming you didn't get, because I haven't heard from you, even just to tell me to back off."

She sat back down in her seat, pulled away from his grasp, and looked him in the eye. "No, I got it. But I threw it out. I've already told you a mind-numbingly excessive amount of times, I can't do this."

"Can't or won't?"

It was something she never asked herself before. Technically, she and Karen were never exclusive; technically, the fact that Karen was married to Stan gave her a pass, even if Stan was in prison. Technically, Karen had no right to get mad if there happened to be someone else. But god, what did that make her? Even if she went into this knowing that Karen would automatically become an adulteress, did that really mean that Grace should become one, too? Karen was looking for someone who wouldn't break her heart, and the red head knew that once she started to succumb to Leo's persistence, she wouldn't be that person anymore. Still, there was something about Leo that intrigued her, even if she didn't want it to. And after the initial shock, she had to admit it: she wasn't terribly disappointed in the fact that he found her again.

"You don't even know me," she said softly. "Why are you so hell-bent on taking me out?"

"All I know is that since we met the first time, I haven't been able to take my mind off of you. It's why I went up to your office when you weren't there, it's why I must look like that annoying guy who just won't leave you alone. I know there's a reason why you're holding back, and I'm not asking you to tell me what it is. Honestly, I don't want to know. All I'm asking for is one dinner. Just one. And if you hate it, you never have to do it again, and I'll back away. I just want a chance. You're absolutely stunning, Grace, and I know you've heard a million other guys tell you these things in a million different ways. But this is all I've got. So there it is."

The last time a guy said anything remotely like that was when she was with Nathan. She missed it. It wasn't as though Karen never said things like that. Because Karen always did. And Grace always loved it, because she knew it was genuine, and she knew that Karen wasn't just going through the motions. But if she had to be honest, there was a ring to the way Leo said these things that wasn't there when anyone else said them. And if she had to be honest, it was working like a charm on her.

"One dinner," she said finally, as an agreement. "Just one. But you have to promise that if I don't want another one, you'll be okay with that. I can't have you coming around unannounced anymore."

"Cross my heart," he said, making the motion with his finger to his chest. "But just in case my confidence fails me, and it turns out you really don't want to see me again, I have to do this one thing, just to see what it's like. You know, to see what I'd be missing out on."

Grace could see him leaning in. She knew what he wanted to do. "What if," she said, trying her best to delay, or even to make him reconsider, what looked bound to happen, "you do it and you miss it once I decide not to see you again?"

Leo smiled. "First of all, who says I'm going to like it?" he said as a joke. Grace couldn't help but smile in response. "Second…I think I'll take my chances." Oh god, not here. Not in the coffeehouse. On the street, in a cab, on the goddamn subway…anywhere but here. Not the one place she and Karen held to be their sanctuary. But there it was. His lips, gracing her own in a way that caught her off guard even though she was fully expecting it. She opened her eyes for a moment and looked off to the front counter. No one was paying attention. No one would notice her betrayal. She was the only one who knew. It's funny how many things in her life end up like that. Leo pulled away and got up from his seat.

He left Grace, pressing her fingers to her lips, reeling from what she had just done.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kare, it's me. I guess you're out somewhere. I hope you get this soon. Anyway, I…I don't think I'm going to be able to get past Will tonight, and even if I do, it would be too late to be worth anything. God, it feels like I'm trying to outsmart my dad or something. I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you later, I swear. I'll see you soon."<p>

It was a performance, and Grace felt it hot in her throat long afterwards. She could hear her hesitation, her odd precision when she finally got the words out. As if it had been rehearsed, as if she waited until she got every word perfectly right to dial the number. It was a lame excuse. It was the only excuse that seemed plausible at the time. But there was no way for Karen to know that.

No, Karen didn't hear what Grace did, and she couldn't help but understand. She got it. Sometimes it was hard to work your way around a secret, and you should never count on routine in a situation such as this. Sure, it would be a little lonely tonight, but it was nothing to complain about. She thought about calling the red head, faking some sort of work emergency for Will's benefit, and waiting until Grace could take the call in her bedroom, but decided against it. If she couldn't get past Will tonight, they were probably doing something together, and Karen didn't want to take her away from that.

She settled for a simple text message. Once Karen settled into the living room couch and put her glass of wine on the coffee table, she held her cell phone in her hand and started to type.

_If you ever get a chance to bypass "Dad" tonight, come see me. I don't care how late it is. I love you._

How freeing it was to be able to say those words whenever you wanted.


	28. By The Numbers

_Then_

Grace's life had become completely controlled by the numbers. It had been three weeks since her dinner date with Leo. In that time, she had seen him on four other occasions (entirely planned, none of this running into each other stuff). She had also lied to Karen about where she was four times in the moment. She lied three other times about it afterward. She told Karen she loved her twenty-three times. She wondered what those words truly meant six times, when she was alone.

It took her twenty-one days to finally collapse under the guilt and let Karen know what she had done.

She decided to fill her in when she saw Karen peacefully sitting at her desk, flipping through a worn copy of _Vogue_ and humming a song to herself that the red head couldn't place but decided was beautiful all the same. Grace stopped in the middle of a sketch and just watched the woman on the other side of the room. God, she was completely oblivious to what Grace had been doing in her free time. It made the red head want to cry, seeing how perfectly content Karen was in that moment. She was too lost in the image to notice the pencil slip from her fingers, landing on the sketch. Karen looked up at her and smiled. Her brow furrowed in concern. "Is everything okay, Gracie?"

Grace froze for a moment before she snapped back into reality. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said as she picked her pencil up again. "Listen, would it be okay if I came by early tonight? I need to talk to you about something."

"What about Will?"

What about the guilt? What about the words forming a knot in her throat? What about the thousand other things making this seem like a virtually impossible task? Will was no bother, Will was no worry. Karen, why not ask about the other obstacles? "Don't worry about him," she managed to get out. "I can handle him."

When the sun went down, Grace found herself outside of Karen's front door, hands in her pockets, unable to knock on the wood separating her from the dark-haired woman. If she left now, Karen would never know that she was here. She could feign illness, gridlock, anything to postpone the inevitable. She had already lied before; what was one more to throw on top of the pile? But no, she had to stop the cycle. She formed a fist, knocked on the door, but as much as she tried, she couldn't muster even a half-hearted smile as Karen opened the door. "Couldn't beat the rain, could you?" she asked as she brushed her lips against the red head and put a hand through Grace's hair, darkened and damp from the rain. Grace followed her into the living room, watched her sit down, but couldn't move once she got to the doorway. "You know, you can take your coat off," Karen said lightly.

Grace shook her head. "It's fine. You won't want me around after this, anyway." She looked at her feet, slowly made her way to the couch and took a seat next to Karen. She locked eyes with her lover for a moment that felt like eternity before turning away again. She couldn't look Karen in the eye when she told her this. It was too much to take. "I need to tell you this," she said, her voice faltering. "But I don't really know how. I never thought I'd have to."

"Honey, it's okay. Just tell me. I'm sure it can't be that bad."

God, she wished Karen hadn't said that. She knew there was no beating around the bush; she wouldn't have been able to figure out how to anyway, in this situation. She took a breath. "You remember Leo?" Karen didn't give her an answer, but her silence did. "I was at the coffeehouse about three weeks ago, and he walked in. I tried to get rid of him, I really did. I even started to get up and leave. But he wouldn't rest until he asked me to dinner. And I thought if I just went one time, it would get him off my back, and I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. But then I was sitting across from him at this restaurant, and…damn it, I didn't think he'd be that sweet. And before I fully realized it, I said yes when he asked me out again. I've seen him a few times. He kisses me, but I don't kiss him back. I haven't done anything yet, other than meet him for dinner."

Silence. Grace couldn't take it. She had to look up. She had to see Karen's face. She had to know what to anticipate (although she already had a pretty good hunch of what she should expect). But when the red head shifted her gaze to the woman next to her, she saw a blank stare, and a pair of lips that looked like they wanted to form words but didn't know how. Finally, Karen let out the smallest voice Grace had ever heard. "Why?" Karen asked. "How could you do this to me?"

"Karen, you're married. Stan's going to come back. We never said anything about being exclusive. We never planned for any of this. I never planned for him, either."

"I didn't think we had to say anything about being exclusive! God, Grace. You know, now is not the time to throw my marriage in my face. You know damn well why I wanted to be with you in the first place. I didn't have to tell you what I've been through. I didn't have to tell you about all the times other people have hurt me. You already knew. And I thought that you wouldn't repeat their actions. It was bad enough when they did it. The fact that it's you doing it this time…"

"But I'm not even doing anything! He buys me dinner, and I listen to him talk. He doesn't take me back to his place at night, and I don't invite him to mine. I'm not doing anything."

"But you want to."

It was a statement, not a question. Grace had been so confused about it all the entire time, but it was as if Karen knew. They sat there in silence; it was all that Karen needed to confirm everything. It wasn't that she didn't believe Grace when she said that Leo didn't get far with her. But she knew that the excuse of going out with him to get him off her back had holes in it. She knew that there was an intrigue, there was something driving Grace. But she also knew that the red head wasn't intentionally hurting her. And Karen realized that she couldn't do anything about it, no matter how hard she tried. "Don't feel like you owe me anything, Grace," she said in a near-whisper. "If you want to be with him, then be with him. I don't want to be the one that stops you."

"You know I love you. Please. You have to know that." It was the first time she ever sounded fully sincere when she said it to Karen. "And I don't know where this guy stands with me just yet. But…I just…what good is this," she asked as she motioned back and forth between them, "if no one else knows about it? If we're ashamed?"

"I only kept quiet because I thought that's what you wanted. If I knew you wanted to tell people, I would have shouted it from the balcony the first time we kissed. I would have told every single stranger I came across on the street. I never took my silence to mean shame, Grace. And I'm sorry that you apparently did. I was ready to leave Stan and start over again with you. Just because we never verbalized it in public doesn't mean I never felt it. I always felt it."

Karen stood up and started to walk away. It didn't matter that it was her house; she just had to get away. She knew it was over. There was no reason to kid herself and tell herself otherwise. She was on her way to the staircase when she heard the red head's voice at her back. "Karen, please." She turned around, saw the tears in Grace's eyes to match the way her voice started breaking. "I'm not ready to let you go yet."

If her heart weren't already shattered, the way Grace pleaded for her like that would have broken it. It rendered her unable to move, unable to escape like she wanted. Karen felt the sting of tears down her cheeks coming steady, silently. "You can't have it both ways. You're either going to stay with me, or you're going to go off with him and see where he takes you. And I think we both know what your decision is going to be."

Karen went upstairs to the master bedroom, left the door open a crack before she let herself fall on the bed. The distance she thought she saw in Grace lately started to melt with all of the good things about their relationship in her mind. It was almost as if the distance was always there. Maybe it was. Maybe that was the reason for all the quiet. She didn't want to let her mind wander like that—if this was going to end, she wanted to keep the good memories intact as best as she could—but it was inevitable. And she was too tired to fight it.

Grace sat there for a few minutes, trying to process everything that just happened. She couldn't fault Karen for ending it. How could she? Karen did nothing wrong, except possibly for trusting the red head with her heart. But the one thing that amazed Grace about the way Karen took it: she had tears streaming down her face, and yet she looked completely stoic. The way she always looked. Putting a strong front on even though she was on the verge of breaking. The red head walked out the front door wishing that she was able to do the same, because she knew that she would be a wreck when she got home.

After that, Karen's life had become completely controlled by the numbers. It only took twenty-four hours after Grace left for Stan to unexpectedly walk through the front door of their penthouse. She had lied about her fidelity eight times. She had lied about loving him twelve times (only when he asked). It took one bottle of wine for her to tolerate her life returning to normal, only if she wanted to, and only if wasn't kidding herself; the effects wouldn't last long. It took three weeks for her to discover him with the mistress he took while he was in prison, a cafeteria worker with whom he'd rather spend his time. It took him thirty minutes to try and talk her down, explain the whole thing, tell her what she already knew ("We've been drifting apart for years now, Karen. You're more shocked than you are angry, you have to be.").

It only took six minutes for her to verbally end her marriage. But it took six hours and a failed attempt at comfort from Jack to make her realize how alone she truly would be from this moment on.


	29. You Know And I Know

_"Baby says I can't come with him  
>And I had read all of this in his eyes<br>Long before he even said so  
>'Why go?' I asked<br>You know and I know why."  
>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" <em>

_Now_

Here's the thing: I'm not, nor have I ever been, mad at you for what happened between us.

There's no way I could be angry over this. You were only following your heart. You were only telling me the truth. If I faulted you for that, I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror. It was why I told you that you shouldn't keep yourself from him on my account. It would have been selfish on my part, and you would have been miserable with the questions of "What if" hanging over your head for as long as we would have stayed together. I'm just sad about it, Grace. That's all. All I've ever wanted for you since the day I met you was for you to be happy, whatever that meant. I'm sad that I wasn't the one that could make you happy. I'm sad that I didn't tell you all the amazing things you've done for me in the course of our relationship, so you wouldn't feel so bad about following your intuition.

I was never mad at you for your actions, just like I was never mad at Stan.

It was more shock than it was anything else. I always figured that with Stan, it would be his infidelity that marked the end, and not mine. Although I did toy around with the idea of telling him about you and me, just to see if he'd react. But even though I was no longer under the rules I had set for myself, I couldn't break the quiet spell, and I let him set fire to the bridge that connected the two of us. What surprised me, once I found out about Lorraine and the affair, was the fact that like the first time I saw him leave my visit at the prison and walk towards those bars, I wanted to go with him; I wanted to overlook everything for just a fleeting moment, because some semblance of my life before our affair had come back, and I foolishly thought that maybe I could find some normalcy. But I saw the look in his eyes when I talked to him. It was the same look I had seen for a long time now, and we both knew that we couldn't keep up the charade.

When I went over to Jack's, sitting outside his apartment as I told him what happened, I couldn't help staring at your front door across the hall. I knew that if it weren't for Jack sitting next to me, I would have pounded on the door, searching for the comfort I used to feel from you. But he noticed my glance, he told me you were off with Leo, that you had gone with him to the Catskills and Will tagged along. I knew he didn't mean to hurt me. But the knowledge that you were off with him, that you were starting to get serious with him, pierced my chest. And of course I couldn't tell him this. He didn't know.

But Will did. I realize that this had to be the reason he kept staring at me during the ceremony. He wasn't silently scolding me for cracking jokes that never came from my lips. He was checking on me, making sure I was alright. That fact alone makes me want to cry for the kindness in him I wasn't expecting.

"Grace didn't tell you that I knew?" Will says to me now. All I can do is shake my head. And before I can think of all the different scenarios in which you spill our secret, he stops my mind and puts me out of my misery. "Right before I went with you to Shelter Island, the two of you were in her bedroom. I just wanted to get a glass of water from the kitchen, but I heard a voice that wasn't Grace's, and let's be honest; your voice is unmistakable. She opened the door and found me in the hallway. We didn't fully talk about until about a month afterward." He stops for a moment, as if he's unsure whether he wants to say what's obviously on his mind. "I thought it was some twisted joke that you were pulling." His voice grows quieter and he hangs his head. "I thought you were messing around with her to get some sort of thrill."

"Well, I was. But it wasn't spiteful at all, Will, you have to believe me." I've never talked to him like this before, not this seriously. It feels like I'm in another world, or at least a dream, but I can feel his hand as I rest mine on top, and I know it's real.

"I know. I'm so sorry that I ever thought that. I…I may have eavesdropped on your phone call with her while we were in Shelter Island. That' s how I knew. There was no way you could say those things, in the way that you said them, without feeling something. I told Grace all of this. I knew what you had been through lately, and I didn't want her to hurt you. I was on your side, I swear."

"I loved her." God, it's so weird now, telling someone how I feel about you. Of course I left out the fact that I still do love you. There's no reason for that, especially considering where we're sitting right now. "I don't want to be spiteful. That's why I'm here, I guess. I'm not trying to prove anything. Although, I have to admit that this is almost unbearable." I laugh sadly, like this is a joke. Like this will be funny someday when I look back on it, when I've moved on. And I probably will move on, but this will never be funny. Will looks at me with a gaze of sympathy, and I want to hate him for it. But honestly, it's all I've been looking for since you left.

"What was it about her? What made you look at her and say, 'Her. I want her.'" Will asks me suddenly. I freeze for a moment, unable to answer. I never had to answer this question before, about anyone. No one ever thought to ask, or if they did, they kept their question to themselves. I could tell him about all the things I witnessed during the night, and believe me, they all contributed to the reason why I want you. Instead, I try to opt for a shorter answer.

"What was it about her that made you do the same, all those years ago? You know, before you truly knew yourself." He knows where I'm coming from. It may have been a gamble to bring up the brief period that he dated you, but I knew it would get to him. I wouldn't have spoken of it if I had any doubt about it. "I don't really have an answer for you," I say, knowing it's the truth, and knowing he will understand. "There was something completely magnetic about her, and I went for it. She was the one who started it in the first place, even though she wasn't quite sure why, and I couldn't give her any reasons. But when she did start it, I knew I was going to go along with it. I wanted to. I couldn't tell you why. But she gave me plenty of reasons along the way."

Before I know it, he puts his arms around me, unable to give me any other kind of response. And where I would normally pull away from him, I relax against his body. "You know," he says, "you could probably sneak out now, if you wanted to. I'm sure Grace wouldn't fault you for it. You don't have to put yourself through any more of this."

"No, it's fine. I'll stay. I got through the worst of it. I do need to get some air, though. I'll be back." I reach for my coat and my purse and make my way out of the reception hall. I have to close my eyes when I finally hit the cold air. I didn't realize how much I needed it, after hours of feeling the hot ball of suppressed emotions and words at the pit of my stomach, the heat spreading all throughout my body. It's funny; this is the first time in a long time that I've ever wanted to be alone.

Fishing for my cigarettes in my purse, I wonder if you ever thought of me while you were with Leo. I realize that he was in your head at the end; I can pretend to be oblivious, but I'm not stupid. But I wonder if you ever looked at him, or talked to him—whether you were across the dinner table, or beside him in bed, or connected by a phone line—and suddenly you found that I had emerged from the dark corner of your mind. Maybe he took you out for coffee (and god, I hope it wasn't in Chelsea, I hope that after that one time he found you there, you never set foot in there with him again), and you thought about all the times we would sit by the window and do all the boldly affectionate things we couldn't otherwise do in public. Maybe you passed by Gray's Papaya with him on the way to whatever it is he had planned, and you remembered the night your emerald dress shone in fluorescent light.

It must have happened once or twice. I'm not hoping that you had doubts about your decision. I knew that you would never have filled me in on what happened if you knew it was going nowhere. I just wonder if you were completely done with me when you walked out my door that night.

I know you're happy, and I know you want this. And maybe that's part of the reason I'm here, too. I know this is what you've been waiting for. And while I didn't want to stand in the way of it, I also didn't want to miss it. Because once this blows over, and I can go back to being your friend—I can go back to feeling your touch without it bringing up the things I don't want to think about—I would have regretted the fact that I wasn't here tonight. You did what you had to do, and there's no way I can be angry at you for that. Lord knows I've done it in the past. And in truth, I did it with you as well. I just didn't realize it until it was over.

There was no way that I would have gotten through Stan's jail time if it weren't for you. I would have been fine with the way it started—a shoulder to lean on, an ear to listen, a sympathetic drinking buddy who realized I was going through a hard time and wanted to help without being asked—but you gave me so much more than I ever could have asked for. You showed me all the things I was missing while I was married to Stan. You showed me all the things I gave up over time and didn't know how much I missed. That's why I can't be mad at you. That's why I'm still here, Grace. You deserve all of this. I'm not going to let my feelings get in the way of that.

And as if I have summoned you, I jump at the unexpected sound of your voice at my back.

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you. Will said I might find you outside. How long have you been out here?"

God, your smile, the way it lingers long after you've finished speaking. I wish I could give you the same, or at the very least, half of it. I just don't have it in me. I let my cigarette drop from my fingers onto the ground; study my heel as I stub it out. And then I give you the only answer that would be truthful. "Not long enough." You won't leave. I finally found sanctuary, and you won't leave; I'm not sure that I want you to, because in this moment, your smile, the way your hair is starting to fall from the braid and frame your face, all of this is just for me. And just when I think I've given you everything willingly, I hear your voice.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?"

You're good. You know I won't say no to you. And you're right. I could never refuse you.

It's just not in my system.


	30. Will You Dance With Me

_"Goodbye, don't cry  
>You know why<br>And it'll be just as quiet when I leave  
>As it was when I first got here."<br>~Rachael Yamagata, "Quiet" _

_Now_

I hesitated. I told you it wasn't a good idea. But you just wouldn't take no for an answer; I would never give you a flat out "no" to begin with. And before I knew it, you had taken me by the hand and led me inside, and as I tried to put on a smile—no matter how fake it might be—you brought me to the place we are now. But if I think about it, it's not the worst thing in the world to be asked. _Will you dance with me?_ certainly wasn't what I was expecting, but it's better than some of the things that popped into my head while you were standing in front of me.

"Come on," you say with a smile as we get to the dance floor. "Will and Jack have already done it. I've been looking for you. It's just one dance." Quickly, I glance over at the table Will and I were sitting at and see that he's still there, Jack sitting in my place, watching it all. He gives me a smile before turning his attention to Jack and whatever conversation they're having. And then I feel your arms wrap around my neck, your expectant gaze on me, and I slide my arms around your waist, sway you to the beat.

"It's not so bad, right?" you say, and I know you're trying to make the situation lighter. But I also know that this is the only opportunity I'm going to get to talk to you about all the things I never could in public. No one would know—except Will, maybe, if he's smart enough to catch on, and we both know he is. They would be none the wiser; we look like two friends celebrating a joyous time. We don't look like former lovers trying to make friendship work again.

Maybe if we don't look like that, it'll be easier not to be that.

"You know," I say quietly. There's nothing else to say but this, and if we stay here in silence, it will only become awkward. "You could have told me that Will knew. I wouldn't have minded. In fact, I think it would have been easier on us knowing that we didn't have to be one hundred percent secretive." I see the shock on your face, the shock that you're trying to hide, and I can't help but give a little smile, because I caught you off guard. "He said something earlier tonight. He was looking at me throughout the ceremony, and I couldn't figure out why. Until he told me."

"I think back then," god, _back then_, like it was five years ago and not only a couple of months (remember, you jumped into this marriage after knowing the guy for two months), like we had such a long history, "I was afraid that if you knew it wasn't a secret anymore, you would want out. I was afraid things would change. I was just a confused mess the entire time we…you know. I wanted it. I really did. I have no reason to lie to you now. But I wasn't sure why, and I didn't want anything to change until I figured it out. I thought if I told you, things would change."

Amazing how willing you are to talk about this, at your own wedding. I was expecting a fight, a clumsy change of subject from you. But I think you realize we both deserve some closure on this, and we're half of the way there now that you married Leo. I want to get to that place, Grace. I want us to be okay again. And I'm glad that you're willing to do this, too.

"Nothing would have changed." It's simple, what I have to say, but it's true. And I realize instantly that it sounds like I'm trying to guilt you. "But I appreciate the fact that you cared enough to try. And I just want you to know…" I wonder if it's appropriate, I wonder if I should even say it. But I started now, and it's going to be too awkward if I stop. "I was never angry. You were only doing what I had done."

You give me a half smile. "And what was that?"

"You followed your heart. Honey, if I was going to go outside my marriage, I wasn't going to be with just anybody. You got to me. Everything about you got to me. And I knew exactly what I was doing. I'm not trying to make you feel bad, because you shouldn't. If you had stayed with me, and I knew that I was the one that kept you from Leo when you thought that he might be the one, I would have ended it. It didn't matter if I was happy. If you weren't, I couldn't have gone on the way we were."

"God, I wish you would get mad at me." Your voice starts to falter and you laugh it off, but I can see it in your eyes. They're starting to glass over with tears, and I hate that I'm the one who's making you do this.

"Why?"

"Because somehow, I think this would be easier. I was awful to you at the end, Karen. I still think about it." I always wondered if you still thought about us. I guess I have my answer. "And you deserve to be pissed off, you deserve to scream at me. But you never did. You never were. You should have called me names, you should have given me hell for doing that to you. You give everybody else hell for nothing at all. And I know that's just a front, but why won't you do that with me, when I've actually done something?"

I can't help but laugh. You're sweet. You really are. When my guard's up, I have no problem saying anything, but I could never hurt you like that. "Oh, you're right, Grace," I say jokingly. "You totally suck."

And there it is. I've always loved your laugh, and even though there are tears threatening to spill, it's still as beautiful as ever. "Thanks," you say as you catch your breath. "That was really convincing." I can feel your body move closer to mine, and for a moment I forget that you promised your love to someone else. For a moment, I'm taken back to the nights when you would press your skin against mine and smile into my back. I can't do this here. I can't do this now. It's not appropriate. But I'm learning to suppress it. I'll get it eventually. "I meant everything I said. I hope you know that. I meant it all. Even if you don't think I did."

I can't respond. Everything you just told me, I already knew. And I think you knew that I knew. To hear you say it, though, means too much, and I don't want to tarnish it with an answer that isn't necessary. So I try to change the subject slightly. "Look, I'm sure I'm going to love Leo once I get to know him. It's going to take some time. I'm not saying that it's going to happen right away. But I just want you to know that I'm trying. And if you're happy, that's all that matters."

You smile, and whether it was that twitch in your muscles that set it off, or you finally willed them to let go, I see the tears start to roll down your cheeks. "I really am, Karen," she said. "I think you're going to like Leo, once you spend some time with him."

At the mention of his name, I shift my gaze to find him. He's over at the table his parents are sitting at, smiling in our direction. I know that smile is only meant for you; you can't see it, but I wonder if you can feel it. I can tell that he's a happier man with you in his life. It doesn't matter that I don't really know him, that up until now, I never took the time to get to know him (and really, could you blame me for not wanting to spend time with him as soon as I found out about him?); I can tell by the look in his eyes. You're the one for him. At least I know you'll be with someone who can love you as much as I do.

"You really think he's the one?" I ask you. And it's not to scout out regret. It's not to prove a point. I just want to hear you say it. Because I think you're afraid to be completely honest with me about this, and I don't want you to be scared. It's me, Gracie. You know you can tell me anything.

The tears start to muffle your voice, but damn it, you still look gorgeous behind those misty eyes. "I really think he's the one."

As much as it's killing me not to kiss those tears away, I restrain myself and offer up a smile instead. "I'm trusting him to take care of you. If you think I'm cold to strangers for no reason when my guard's up, then he better watch out if he ever hurts you." I say it like a joke, but it feels like the truth.

But you take it like the former and give me another little laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"Then that's all I want to hear."

Ever since I was a little girl, I've been taught by my mother to keep your own feelings aside. That way, it's easier to get through life, because you won't get tangled up in emotions that will stick you somewhere you don't want to be. It was how my mother got through life once my father died. It was also the reason I left home two years earlier than I had planned, at sixteen. Because I knew that ninety-nine percent of the time, it didn't work. You couldn't just be stone, because that's no way to live a life. But as much as I tried to rebel against it, I found myself walking down the same emotionless path that my mother had paved for me. You were the one to finally tell me that there was another road I could turn onto. You let me feel. You let me express everything I needed to express. But at this moment, as you pull me in to hug me on the dance floor, I know that this is the one percent where I have to do as I was told.

It's the only time I can recall that my mother has taught me something I can actually use in real life.

I hear the last chords of the song and know that we have to stop. I see the look in your eyes and know that eventually, we will be okay. I kiss your cheek and linger for a moment, not caring who sees, not caring about whether or not it was the right thing to do. I can still taste the saline from the tears that have dried on your cheeks. I can feel Will's eyes on me as the song ends, and I know that when I go back to him, I'll be better able to handle the night. I see Leo out of the corner of my eye, your new husband, waiting to take my place. I slide my arms off of your waist.

And then I let you go.

* * *

><p><em><strong>To be continued.<strong>_


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